


Here's to You

by icbdrummergirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, American Football Player Dean Winchester, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, No Underage Sex, Slow Burn, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Teacher Castiel (Supernatural), Teacher-Student Relationship, Teenage Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 29,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icbdrummergirl/pseuds/icbdrummergirl
Summary: When Dean Winchester transferred to Blue Springs High School two years ago, forced to relocate due to his father's work, he was convinced that he would hate it. He hated Ohio. He hated that there was nothing to do, no matter how far you drove in any direction. He was so sick of the hillbillies and their lifted trucks. He never expected to find himself as the quarterback, a beautiful girlfriend on his arm, and the envy of the other students. He had never cared much for school, but he was surprised to find just how much he enjoyed his English Composition courses taught by potentially the coolest teacher he had ever met, even he dressed like a dork. He had it all- popularity, Baby, Sammy, and brains.How did everything suddenly spiral out of his control? He had never been a stellar student, but he had never failed a class before. He stared in shock at the big red F marking the top of his paper. He was so screwed.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 27
Kudos: 92





	1. Great Expectations

_What. The. Fuck._

Dean stared hard at the F at the top of his paper, scrubbing his face with exasperation. Shit. He knew he hadn’t written a masterpiece, hell, he almost forgot to _write_ the damn thing between hanging out with Lisa and football practice.

But an _F_?

He was certain he had at least scraped a C- out of it, even in his haste to finish it. He may not be the world’s best student, but Dean Winchester could fucking _write_. It wasn’t his fault that he was exhausted. His dad had been gone for weeks, and he had been precariously balancing his time between football, girlfriend, and Sammy.

He hadn’t even eaten dinner the night before, barely managing to feed Sam before passing out on the couch with his shoes still on. He had jolted awake at about 5 am, noting that his little brother had covered him up with a blanket before he had gone up to bed. He had smiled and shook his head before getting up to start his day, opting to let the kid sleep in a little longer than usual in return for the blanket.

_F_.

Dean sighed, finally tearing his eyes from the grade to the much more terrifying “See me after class”. He swallowed a wave of anxiety, his mind flashing to his coach’s threat to “kick his ass back to Kansas” if he didn’t get his grades up.

_Great_. Not only was he now failing English, but now he had to stay after class to discuss his failing grade, which would make him late for practice.

He was so screwed. 

The period crept on longer than was strictly necessary, and Dean glanced anxiously at the clock, dreading the sound of the bell signaling the end of class. Despite his glare, the hands ticked on until his classmates began to shuffle out around him. He only had a moment to collect himself before he heard the scrape of a chair being turned around and the clearing of a throat.

“Mr. Winchester.”

Dean’s ears tinged with red at the mention of his surname. _Now he was really screwed_.

He dragged his eyes up from the paper tainted with red pen marks, his bright green eyes meeting clear blue, “M-Mr. Novak.”

Castiel Novak was much younger than most of the faculty in this school district, but he took his job very seriously. Students often snickered at his seemingly self-imposed dress code of a button-down white shirt, black slacks, and blue tie, not to mention the fucking trench coat that he kept folded on his desk until the end of class. Despite their teasing, Mr. Novak was an unspoken favorite in the eyes of his students. He had the ability to take even the driest material, and bring it to life for his students, engaging even the most stubborn minds. He always greeted his students with a smile, clapping them on the back with warm enthusiasm after a well-presented report or answer.

He did not use last names. Ever.

“Mr. Winchester, I’m sorry to have to keep you, but we need to discuss _this_ ,” he sighed, tapping the paper with obvious disappointment.

Dean sheepishly ducked his head, staring at the grade with enough intensity to set fire to the evidence that he failed, remaining silent.

“Dean,” Castiel began with hesitation, “I really don’t understand how things have gotten to this point. You do realize that I will have to contact Coach Singer and inform him that you are now failing my class?”

Dean swallowed hard, still refusing to make eye contact.

_Dad is going to kill me_ , he thought with a twist in his gut. He chose to ignore that particular train of thought for the moment, realizing that his instructor was still waiting for an answer. He cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident than he felt, “Y-yeah. I know.” He could feel the other’s eyes on him, his body tensing at the uncomfortable attention. He hated being stared at.

He jumped as he felt a hand suddenly appear on his shoulder, banging his knee off the desk when he flinched, “ _Shit_! I mean-uh, ouch?” He grumbled, rubbing at the tender spot on his knee.

Castiel immediately withdrew his hand in concern, “Christ, Dean! Are you alright? I didn’t mean to scare you.” He furrowed his brows, managing to gaze even more intensely at the teenager before him.

_Damn it, Cas_. “Yeah, I’m alright,” he said gruffly, wincing as be continued to clutch his knee, waiting for the pain to pass. “I uh, just wasn’t expecting that is all.”

Giving Dean a once over to assess for any further damage, he sat back in his chair, satisfied. “My apologies, Dean.” He offered his palms up in peace, and then allowed them to fall back to his thighs where they had been resting before.

Dean’s eyes involuntarily tracked the movement, quickly glancing away as he realized that he was glancing at a dude’s thighs. _What the fuck?_

Castiel regarded him in silence for a moment before leaning forward in his chair once more, “Dean... You know that you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Dean’s head snapped up in surprise, suspicion clouding his face momentarily before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that there’s nothing to tell.”

_And even if there were, he still wouldn’t tell him_.

“It’s just that,” Castiel began carefully, “this isn’t like you, Dean.” He tapped the paper once more, as if Dean needed another reminder of his failures.

Dean shrugged, looking down at the worn spot in his jeans, refusing to meet the piercing blue eyes of his teacher. “Things have just been kinda crazy lately with football and everything. Coach thinks we have a shot at the playoffs this year, so he’s been pushing us harder.”

“I get that, Dean. But don’t you realize that your schoolwork is important, too? I’m sure you’ve heard the ‘back up plan’ speech before, so I’ll spare you, but do you really want to jeopardize your future?”

Dean felt the sting in his gut, shuffling his feet as he stared dejectedly at the floor. Of course he knew how important it was, that’s why he always made sure that Sammy’s work was done before he even considered thinking about his own. That kid was going places. He sighed, hanging his head in shame, “No, sir.”

Castiel snorted, “Damn it, Dean. You know how I feel about being called sir. It reminds me of my ridiculous brother.” Castiel’s brother taught the business courses, and as far as Dean was concerned, Michael Novak was a pompous prick.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced up at the clock, heart dropping as he realized he was already ten minutes late for practice. He should be dressed and on the field right now. _Shit_.

Cas followed Dean’s gaze toward the clock, shifting his attention back to the matter at hand. “Well, Dean. I don’t see how a student that possesses collegiate-level writing capabilities suddenly goes from leading the class to failing, but seeing as you’re _fine_ , we need to talk about what comes next,” Cas adds, throwing air quotes around ‘fine’.

Dean shifts his attention back to the man in front of him, icy dread ripping through his gut in anticipation of what came next. _Please don’t say it. Please._

“Normally, in a situation like this, you would be kicked off the football team and placed on academic probation,” he began, leaning back in his chair to watch his student. “However, seeing as you are more than capable of passing this class, I’m willing to make an exception.”

Dean’s jaw dropped, staring up at his instructor in confusion, “A-an exception? What do you mean?”

Castiel rolled his eyes, “I _mean_ that I’m going to give you a second chance to pull your grade up, Dean. Here’s the deal. I will provide you with a set of alternate assignments that you will have to complete in addition to your regular coursework.”

“Wait, like extra credit,” Dean asked incredulously. _More_ work to do? How was that going to solve his problems?

Castiel considered this for a moment, then nodded in agreement, “In short, yes. The difference is that these will be required, Dean. If you do not complete these assignments and do well on them, I will have no choice but to fail you.”

Dean’s heart sank in despair, there was no fucking way he was going to be able to accomplish extra work on top of his already overdrawn schedule. “What... what do I have to do?”

“Your assignments will be due every Monday. You and I will meet after class every Thursday to discuss your progress,” Castiel stated with a matter of fact smile.

_Every_ Thursday? Thursdays were the days he spent with Lisa since he didn’t have practice. She was going to be _pissed_.

Castiel must have noticed his internal struggle because he snapped his fingers, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

“I mean it, Dean. This is non-negotiable. Please don’t make me be the bad guy here,” Castiel sighed in frustration. “You are capable of so much more, and frankly I think you need to pull your head out of your ass to see it.”

Dean snorted, taken aback by the comment from the usually calm and collected Castiel Novak, “You sound like Coach.”

Castiel rolled his eyes once more, smirking, “Good. Maybe now you’ll get it through that thick skull of yours.” He stood, shaking the tension from his limbs before turning toward his own desk to retrieve another paper.

“This is your first assignment, Dean. It should be an easy week for you seeing as you’re only reading Chapter 7 in class. I expect you to knock this out of the park, Winchester.”

It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes, chuckling as he accepted the paper from the other man, “Dude, that’s baseball. Not football.”

Castiel waved his hand dismissively, “Same difference, Dean. It’s all the same. A big fuss over a ball and much more sweating than is strictly necessary.” He shuddered in horror at the thought of having to be in a situation like that, opting to surround himself with literature and art instead.

Dean recoiled as though he had been slapped, trying to wrap his head around the _audacity_ of this guy that just compared football to those long-haired douchebags in their stupid pants.

Pulling himself together, he sputtered, “The same? Dude. There is no freaking way. Have you ever even seen a football game?”

Castiel shook his head and shrugged, “Not necessary. I prefer to surround myself with the arts. Besides, I was never really a fan of... physical activity.”

He wrinkled his nose, thinking back to all the times he had puked while attempting to run the mile in gym class. Don’t get him wrong, he was fit, and he had a decent build of muscle as a result of his frequent hikes. He preferred to read when surrounded by nature.

Dean stared at him taken aback by his complete and utter lack of experience in the best thing in the world, “Are- Are you serious? Dude, you’ve gotta come to a game. You can cheer us on, show your school spirit and all that jazz.”

Castiel scoffed, sweeping the rest of his belongings into his bag before realizing that his student was looking at him with utter sincerity.

He sighed, gesturing to the door for Dean to exit the room, “I’ll tell you what, Dean. You make a real effort and pass this class, and I’ll try to make an effort to come to one of the games.”

Dean grinned in triumph, stepping into the hall before glancing back at his instructor, “You’re on.” With one last smirk, Dean was off, hustling to get to what Cas could only assume was practice.

Cas sighed, flipping the light switch off in his classroom before heading toward the parking lot. “Damn it, Cas,” he grumbled to his reflection in the rear-view mirror, “what did you just get yourself into now?”


	2. Shut up, Sammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just your average Winchester brother banter.

_That damn. blinking. cursor._ It reminds him that he has made absolutely _no_ progress on his paper for class, even though it’s Sunday afternoon.

“...dean...”

Seriously? Why does the damn thing have to blink so much?

“Dean!”

Dean’s head snapped up, nearly sending his laptop flying in the process. He scowled at his little brother, taking a moment to roll his shoulders and stretch his sore muscles. “What do you want, Sammy?”

“It’s like, six o’clock, Dean. I’m starving,” Sam whined, crossing his arms.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Dude, you JUST ate at two. It’s not my fault you woke up late after staying up all night talking to your _girlfriend_.”

Sam blushed as he rolled his eyes back, “First of all, she’s _not_ my girlfriend, and second, _we_ were up late because _Benny_ got trashed and you had to drive him home, remember?”

“Sorry, _Dad_ , I don’t recall requiring you to stay up and keep watch for me,” Dean smirked.

“You’re such a jerk, Dean,” Sam huffed. “I can’t believe you won’t even feed your only brother.”

Dean glanced up from his keyboard to meet his brother’s best puppy dog stare, “Whatever, bitch. How’s pizza sound? You order it. Large pepperoni and bacon.”

Sam wrinkled his nose, “Um, can we get maybe like, half pepperoni and bacon, half vegetarian?”

Dean glared at his brother in suspicion, “I don’t know where they found you, but we are definitely not related. No blood of mine eats rabbit food.”

“Dad eats salads, Dean,” Sam pointed out with a smug grin.

“You know what? Just, go order the fucking pizza, Sam,” he muttered, throwing his empty water bottle at his brother. “And make sure they keep your shit on _your_ side of the pizza!”

Sam glared at his brother, but picked up the empty bottle, quickly tossing it in the trash. He sighed, pulling out his phone before mumbling, “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean sat back in his chair once more, gazing at the blank word document in front of him. He was pissed that he had put this off until the last minute _again_.

Where did the weekend even go? Wednesday, he had been given his first assignment from Cas. Thursday, he had gone to the movies with Lisa, opting to spend the night with her since Sam was over at Kevin’s for the night. _And what a night it was._ Friday, they had played against Olson followed by an _awesome_ after party that he didn’t recover from until Saturday afternoon when he could finally stare at his computer screen without wanting to barf. He had full intentions to work on it last night when Benny had called, drunk off his ass.

Benny was already in deep shit with his dad for wrecking his truck last month, and he couldn’t get in trouble again. Dean didn’t hesitate, immediately going to pick up his inebriated friend and give him a ride to his mom’s.

Benny hadn’t been in the car for a full ten minutes before puking all over Baby, and Dean swore that the next time he saw Benny sober, he was going to punch him in the dick. By the time he had cleaned up Baby and come home, it had been 3 am, and Dean couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about anything other than a much-needed shower and his bed.

_Focus, dumb ass. You do this shit all the time._

Dean sighed, cracking his knuckles, and starting to type. By the time the pizza arrived, he had made decent progress, already a page and a half to show for his efforts.

“What are you working on anyway? I thought you already did your homework this week,” Sam questioned, happily munching on his rabbit pizza.

“Dude, don’t talk with your mouth full. There’s too much green in there for that to even be considered pizza,” Dean pretended to gag, causing his brother to smack him. “For your information, smarty pants, Ca- I mean, Novak gave me another assignment.”

“Like, extra credit?”

Dean stared down at his half-eaten slice of meaty goodness, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Sam considered this for a moment, watching his brother closely, “Is everything okay, Dean?”

Dean looked up, choosing to stuff the rest of his slice into his mouth in lieu of an answer, smirking when Sam moved away in disgust.

“Gross, dude! You have room to talk about bad manners,” Sam grumbled.

Dean licked his fingers, winking at his little brother, “I’m older, Sammy. I can do what I want. It’s like, older brother 101.”

“My name is Sam,” he fired back, rolling his eyes once more.

“Not to me, Sammy,” Dean grinned, ruffling his brother’s hair and then chasing him up the stairs after he punched him in the arm.

* * *

It wasn’t until 1 am that he finally finished his assignment, opting to print it out in the morning so he could crash.

He woke up with a heavy yawn, still exhausted from the long weekend and lack of rest, heading for the bathroom to shower before waking up Sam and threatening him with the hose if he didn’t get up.

He headed back to his room, connecting his laptop to the printer and hitting print on his assignment before going to make himself and Sammy some breakfast. 20 minutes later, he returned, finishing his fourth slice of toast before noticing the red blinking light on his printer. _You have got to be kidding me._

He woke up his laptop, groaning at the message informing him that the printer was out of ink. “Damn it, Dad,” he muttered, frantically searching for extra ink and tearing the den apart in the process.

“Uh, Dean? What are you doing,” Sam queried from the doorway, hair still wet from his own shower.

“Dad used all the fucking ink again,” Dean cursed, slumping into the chair with his head in his hands. He was so screwed.

“Can’t you just email it to Novak? That way he knows it’s done,” Sam suggested, leaning against the door frame.

Dean sprang into action immediately, grinning at his brother, “Sammy, you’re a goddamn genius.”

“It’s Sam, and yeah, kinda,” Sam smirked.

Dean rolled his eyes as he pulled up his email, preparing to send the assignment when he froze. _Shit._ “Shit,” he muttered.

“What’s the matter,” Sam asked, stepping into the room in concern.

“I don’t have his email,” Dean groaned, letting his head fall forward onto the desk with a _thunk._

Sam came around the desk to stand by his brother, chuckling, “Dude. How did you even make it this far? You can just look him up in the directory on the school’s website.”

“Sammy, I could kiss you,” Dean sighed in relief, following his brother’s instructions.

Sam wrinkled his nose, “Yeah, don’t do that.”

“Not like that, perv,” Dean laughed, sending the email and closing his laptop. “Now get your shit. We’re gonna be late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are liking this so far! Just clarifying that this WILL be a work in progress, and I hope to update as regularly as I can. Let me know what you think!


	3. That's for Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, Dean.

“Can you turn it down,” Sam snapped, eyes glued to the book in his hands. 

“How dare you, Sammy! It’s Zeppelin, man! You can’t just turn down Zeppelin,” Dean reasoned, tapping along on the steering wheel of the Impala. 

Sam huffed, looking up from his book and reaching for the volume knob, “Sure you can. Just like this.” 

Dean gasped in shock as his little brother touched the volume, immediately smacking him upside the back of his head, “Listen, brat. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.” He dodged a retaliation from Sam, who settled for flipping him off. He glanced over at his brother, noting the cover of the book— The Catcher in the Rye. “How do you even read like that in the car? I’d be hurling right now.”

Sam smiled, gesturing to the stain on the floorboards, “No worries, Dean. I’m good. It’s still just Benny.”

Dean grumbled, planning to stop after practice tonight and get more spot remover to get the rest of the stain out. He made a mental note to pick up more air freshener, too.

They pulled into the parking lot, Dean turning toward his usual spot. “So, I’ll pick you up in front of the school at 5,” he asked his brother, grabbing his jacket from the backseat.

“Yeah, Jess and I are going to hang in the library until you are done with practice,” Sam replied, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Dean made a comment about cute couples that earned him a kick in the shin, cursing as he watched his brother retreat into the building. He made his way to his locker, picking up his books before heading to homeroom. He passed Lisa in the hallway, pulling her to the side for a questionably PG make out session before he heard Benny’s voice behind him.

“ _Damn_ , brother! Save some for the rest of us,” he whistled, clapping his friend on the back.

“Fuck off, Benny,” Dean fired back, “You wish you had a chance with Lisa.” She chuckled, pulling him in for one more kiss before stepping back.

“ _You’re_ lucky you have a chance with me, Deanie baby,” she grinned, turning on her heel.

Benny made retching sounds, doubling over for good measure, just to be punched in the dick by his best friend. He dropped to the ground as Dean smirked at him, “ _That’s_ for Baby. Later, Lafitte.”

“Eat a dick, Dean,” he gasped in return.

Dean slumped into the seat of his homeroom, checking his phone while waiting for the morning announcements. School policy was “zero tolerance” on cellphones, but Fitzgerald was a total pushover. The drama teacher, Crowley, was another story entirely. If he caught you on your phone in class, he would post an embarrassing update on any social media apps he could find. 

Scrolling through his notifications, he saw that he had an email from Novak. He quickly pulled it up, wondering if he was in trouble for not printing his assignment.

**From: Castiel Novak <[castfromthepast83@gmail.com](mailto:castfromthepast83@gmail.com)**>

 **To: Dean Winchester <[allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com](mailto:allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com)**>

**Date: September 14 th, 2020, 8:37 AM**

**Subject: Alternative Assignments**

**Mailed by: gmail.com**

**Good morning, Dean**

**I received your email and wanted to let you know that emailing your assignment is just fine. You don’t have to worry about printing them out. I hope you had a great weekend, and I can’t wait to see what you’ve submitted!**

**See you later,**

**Castiel N.**

Huh. That was pretty cool of him and would definitely save him some of the trouble of trying to get more ink for the printer. He scrolled back up to the top, noting the email address. That definitely wasn’t his faculty issue email that he had sent the assignment to. Of course, he _would_ pick something dorky.

* * *

The day passed by uneventfully, and finally Dean was heading to his last class of the day. Cas always made for an interesting period, managing to hold his attention better than any of the others. As he rounded the corner into the classroom, he froze, immediately noting the absence of his messy-haired teacher. Instead, sitting at his desk was none other than his brother, Michael Novak. _Shit._

Michael regarded him coldly, and Dean hurried to his seat. When the bell rang, he promptly cleared his throat, effectively silencing the room, “My brother has asked me to sit in for your class today. He had a personal situation and was forced to take the day off. He has asked that you spend the class period working on the chapter discussion questions listed in your textbook. _Silently.“_ He glared at all of them before writing the required question numbers on the board, “They are due at the end of class, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the class murmured, shuffling their belongings about to get to work on their assignment. Dean sighed, working on the boring ass questions and wondering what happened with his usual teacher.

At the end of class, they all turned in their assignments before shuffling out the door. Dean stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading for the door.

“Winchester.”

Dean froze, turning to face Michael, “Yes, sir?”

“My brother wanted me to give you this,” he stated with obvious boredom, producing an envelope from his pocket. “Why are you being given alternative assignments? Do you think you’re better than your peers because you can throw a ball?”

Dean stiffened, clenching his jaw in anger, “No, sir. I just do what he asks me to do.”

“Don’t go thinking you’re special, Winchester. In His eyes we are all the same,” he spat, shoving the envelope toward Dean.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Dean muttered, taking the envelope. He stuffed it into his backpack, speeding away from the classroom and the colossal ass clown that was Michael Novak.

* * *

Later after practice, and after they had eaten dinner, Dean opened his bag to look at the envelope. “Leave it to that dick to open a sealed envelope,” Dean swore, unfolding the paper inside. In Castiel’s handwriting, there were the details of his next assignment, due Monday. He would be writing a personal essay about the most important person in his life.

He sat back in his desk chair, mulling over the details and considering his options for the most important person in his life. He thought of his brother immediately, having practically raised him since their mother had died. His heart ached as he thought about his mother, and bit back the anger toward his dad as he remembered that once again, he wasn’t here to help take care of his brother. 

Dean didn’t mind taking care of Sammy, but he wished that he could have more freedom to do the things he wanted without having to worry about his brother. He made sure Sam was fed, that he did his homework, and that he had everything his nerdy ass could want all while their father sent a check from across the country at his job site. 

Dean stared at the picture of him and his mother from when he was 3, and he swallowed hard to prevent the tears from falling. _God,_ he missed her. With one last glance at his upcoming assignment, he stood, shutting off his desk lamp, “That’s a problem for another day.”


	4. It Makes Us Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The locker room was silent. All the others had long since left. Dean sat alone on the bench, still wearing his uniform. They had lost, and it was his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be written in Castiel's perspective. I know these past few have been kind of like filler chapters, but I'm enjoying this. I hope you feel the same!

The following day at school, Castiel still was not there. Or the next day. Or the next.

Dean was sick to death of seeing Michael every single day, tired of the way he preached his bullshit to the class like he was the greatest person to grace their presence. It made him want to knock the guy down a few pegs.

When Lisa texted him after school to let him know she had a family thing and couldn’t see him today, Dean found himself sitting in front of his laptop while Sam played video games in the living room. He wasn’t sure exactly how deep he was supposed to go with this essay, but he definitely wasn’t going to turn in a sob story. He watched the subject of his assignment take down another round of zombies, and then started typing.

Surprisingly, an hour later, he was done. Dean was shocked, for he had _never_ finished an assignment that quickly. It wasn’t even time for dinner yet, and he now had the entire weekend to do whatever. _Awesome_. He stretched, getting up to go grab a drink from the kitchen. He brought one for Sam as well, tossing him a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Dean. Did you finish your assignment,” Sam asked, not looking up from the screen.

“No biggie,” Dean dismissed, plopping back down into his spot. “Yeah, I’m all done. Nothing else due for the week.”

“Cool. So, what are you doing this weeke- shit!”

“Dude, if Dad comes back and hears you swearing, he is going to kick both of our asses,” Dean grumbled, pulling his computer back into his lap. “I’m not sure yet. Obviously, a game tomorrow night, and then probably a party after. What are your plans?”

Sam paused the game, uncapping his water to take a drink, “Tomorrow, Kevin and I are coming to game so we can see you play, and then his mom’s going to pick us up.” He smiled, turning to face his brother, “If you don’t have any other plans this weekend, do you think we can go see a movie? It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to go.”

Dean considered this, doing a mental tally of how much money was left from their Dad’s most recent check, “Yeah, I think we can do that as long as you promise not to go crazy with the snacks.”

Sam stared at him incredulously, “Dude, that’s _you_. All I care about is popcorn.”

“Whatever,” Dean muttered, looking back down at his laptop. Since he was done, he might as well just send it to Cas, right? He looked back over his work, proofreading and making a few changes before pulling up his email. He looked at the address, wondering where the man had been all week.

**From: Dean Winchester <[allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com](mailto:allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com)>**

**To: Castiel Novak <[castfromthepast83@gmail.com](mailto:castfromthepast83@gmail.com)>**

**Date: September 17 th, 2020, 5:53 PM**

**Subject: Alternative Assignments**

**Mailed by: gmail.com**

**Hey, Mr. Novak,**

**I just wanted to let you know I got my next assignment from your brother and that I finished it. I’m going to attach it to this email. I know you don’t owe me any explanations or anything, but I hope everything is okay with you. Your brother mentioned on Monday that you had needed to take a personal day, but since you haven’t been in class, I just wanted to say that your class isn’t the same without you there.**

**Anyway, I hope you have a great weekend.**

**Dean**

He clicked send, then shut his laptop, getting up to go make dinner.

* * *

The locker room was silent. All the others had long since left. Dean sat alone on the bench, still wearing his uniform. They had lost, and it was his fault. He had tried to run the ball to the end zone instead of passing it, and he had fumbled it when he was tackled. The other team had recovered the ball and managed to score a touchdown in the confusion. With the extra point, they had beaten his team by one point.

“Dean?”

Dean picked his head up, looking around, “Sammy? Is that you?”

Sam rounded the corner, coming to sit by his brother on the bench. “Dean,” he began carefully, “You do know that it wasn’t your fault, right?”

Dean ran his fingers through his sweat-mussed hair, sighing, “Sam, what are you even doing here? I thought that you were going with Kevin and his mom?”

“I was, but when you didn’t come out of the locker room with the others, I knew you would be in here beating yourself up about it because that’s kind of what you do, Dean,” he complained.

“It _was_ my fault, Sam,” he yelled, standing up and throwing his helmet. He turned to face his brother, cheeks flushed in anger. “ _I_ got cocky, _I_ dropped the ball. It was _my_ fucking fault!” He yanked his jersey over his head, tossing it carelessly on the ground before tearing at his pads.

Sam flinched at Dean’s sudden outburst, wondering how to get through his brother’s thick skull, “So you made a mistake. So what? People make mistakes all the time, dude. It makes us better. Dean, it makes _you_ a better athlete.”

Dean had noticed his brother recoil when he threw his helmet, feeling his anger quickly turn to guilt, “I know, Sam. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” Sam offered, giving his brother a small smile.

“Is Kevin still here,” Dean asked, grabbing his shower supplies.

“No, his mom came to get him,” Sam answered. “I know you usually go to a party tonight, but I thought maybe you would want to hang out with me instead. If not, that’s totally okay.”

“What did you have in mind,” Dean asked curiously.

“Horror movie marathon,” Sam suggested, “In less you would rather do something else.”

Dean grinned at his brother, “You know me so well. Hatchet Man?”

“Hatchet Man,” Sam agreed. “Dude, don’t take offense to this, but you _reek_.”

“Sit tight, I’m gonna go grab a quick shower,” he announced, grabbing his clothes. Just before shutting his locker, his phone lit up with a notification. He froze, ignoring the texts from Lisa and Benny, focusing on the most recent preview.

****

**GMAIL 1m ago**

**Castiel Novak**

**Additional Assignments**

**Hello, Dean.**


	5. The Brothers Novak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today was the day.
> 
> The service started at 5pm, and he was greatly unprepared to be surrounded by people. He bit his nails, anxious to get it over with. He didn’t want to say goodbye, but in a way he already had. His mother was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

_Damn that infernal beeping._

Cas blindly swatted at his phone, trying to silence his alarm. Normally, he was able to wake up without too much hardship, but right now, he was _exhausted._

He had been working around the clock, making arrangements and contacting more people than he had ever interacted with in his life. He still couldn’t believe that she was gone. 

Gabriel had called to deliver the news to him Monday morning just as he arrived at the school, and he had been devastated. He didn’t hang up until he had made it to his brother’s classroom, solemnly sharing the new of their mother’s passing. Michael had stared at him indifferently, quietly announcing that he would not be attending the services. Castiel was shocked at his brother’s stubbornness but did not have it in him to argue. He had asked the other man to cover his classes for the week and quickly scrawled a note with instructions to Dean for his next assignment. He had gone back to his classroom to gather his belongings and took a moment to check his phone after feeling multiple notifications come in from his pocket. He skimmed over them, noting an email from the student in question. He quickly sent back a response, and then he was off. Michael may not have cared about their mother’s passing, but Castiel needed his brothers.

Gabriel had assisted him in making arrangements trying to keep his mood light as the days went by. He had opted to stay with Cas in order to spend more time with him, and Cas was grateful for his presence. His brother had a knack for not taking things seriously, but apart from their mother, he was his biggest support system. Gabe had noticed just how worn down his brother was and had offered to let him sleep in while he went to pick Lucifer up from the airport.

Castiel stumbled toward the kitchen to make coffee. Coffee consumed, he turned his attention to a long shower. _Much better._ Drying his hair, he headed back to his bedroom to pick out his clothes for the day when he heard his phone go off. He quickly got dressed, then went to the bed, searching for his phone. He had messages from Gabe, rolling his eyes as he checked the most recent text.

**Precious cargo secured.**

He had over an hour until his brothers returned, so he decided to get some work done. He responded to some emails, and finally settled on Dean’s email containing his first assignment. He smiled, opening the attachment and reading through it to grade. Apart from some minor grammatical errors and a few small critiques, he was pleased to see that Dean’s work was excellent. He made a mental note to contact him this weekend about his grade, and hearing the car pull into the driveway, he shut down his computer and prepared to meet his brothers.

* * *

Today was the day.

The service started at 5pm, and he was greatly unprepared to be surrounded by people. He bit his nails, anxious to get it over with. He didn’t want to say goodbye, but in a way he already had. His mother was gone, and she wasn’t coming back. This funeral was nothing more than a formality, and he couldn’t stand the fact that he had to greet people in front of his mother’s body. She deserved more than that.

“Cas? Are you ready yet,” Gabe called from the hallway, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He glanced down at himself, still wrapped in a towel from his shower and hesitated before answering, “I-I may require a few more minutes.”

“Well, hurry it up, baby bro. Luc is going to pace a hole in your carpet if he has to wait any longer,” Gabe hollered back, earning him a colorful response from their brother.

Cas sighed, steeling himself for the evening, and finally reached for his suit.

* * *

Cas had been massively uncomfortable at the previous evening’s memorial service, but nothing had prepared him for the pain of this morning. As he watched his mother lowered into the ground, the tears finally flowed freely. His brothers stood on either side of him, the three of them putting their arms behind each other for support. Gabriel sniffed loudly to his left, and even Lucifer, usually so collected, wept openly to his right. Michael, true to his word, had not showed.

It was Friday night, and his brothers had chosen to head for the bar. He had just wanted to be alone. Unable to shake the memory of that morning, he decided to go to the school to pick up some more things that he needed for the weekend. As he entered the school, thankful once more that the custodian had let him in, he let the warm familiarity wash over him.

Reaching his classroom, he stepped in and let the comforting environment heal his heart. He had brought his laptop with him, and after walking through the aisles of desks, he had planned to get some more work done. He could hear the distant roar of fans and the press box as it carried up from the field, taking a moment to look out the window at the stadium lights. _Good luck, Dean_ , he mused.

Returning to his desk, he quickly graded the work that Michael had left in his desk drawer for him. Checking mainly to see that the work was completed, he marked the stack with check marks, pleased to see that most of his students had done what was asked of them with no issues. He opened his laptop, signing into his grade book to add in the points for his students. As he got to Dean’s, he realized that he had yet to email the boy back. 

He had received an email the night before during the service and had been thrilled to see that Dean had already completed his next assignment. He hadn’t graded that one yet, but he planned to meet with Dean on Thursday as planned this week, so there was no rush. He had been touched by Dean’s concern over his absence, and he realized how much he hated to leave his students to the cold detachment of his brother. When he had spoken with the principal to state that he needed the week off, he had told him to take as long as he needed. He had not asked why his brother would not also be taking the week off, and for that Cas was grateful. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he began typing. He was distinctly aware of the shouts coming from the stadium but had no inclination as to what it could possibly mean.

**From: Castiel Novak <[castfromthepast83@gmail.com](mailto:castfromthepast83@gmail.com)>**

**To: Dean Winchester <[allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com](mailto:allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com)>**

**Date: September 18th, 2020, 9:45 PM**

**Subject: Additional Assignments**

**Hello, Dean.**

**First of all, I would like to let you know that I graded your first assignment, and that I have attached your feedback to this email. I also received your second assignment which you will get back this Thursday as planned. Kudos on getting it done promptly.**

**Second, I want to thank you for your concern regarding my absence. I am afraid that there was an unexpected death in the family, and I needed a few days to sort out the affairs. I do plan to return Monday, so I will give you the information for your next assignment then.**

**Thank you again, Dean. I hope that your game went well this evening. I was rooting for you.**

**Castiel N.**


	6. You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of class, Castiel approached him with another envelope, waving it mysteriously in front of him, “I am very impressed so far, Dean. I have not read your second assignment yet, but I’m sure that you did very well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rough one, lads. You might want your tissues at the ready! I hope you enjoy!

Dean had thoroughly enjoyed his weekend, spending it all with his brother. After their Hatchet Man marathon Friday night, they had slept until Saturday afternoon. Once they had both showered, Dean had driven them to the mall where they had gotten dinner and gone to see a movie. Sunday, he had gone to see Lisa, but had been on edge until he got back home. Something was up with her, and he wasn’t sure what. Just as he was sitting down to dinner with Sammy, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. With a quick glance, he had confirmed it to be their father. _Shit._

“Hey, Dad,” Dean answered casually, exchanging looks with his brother, shrugging.

“I watched your game highlights online,” John began quietly, leaving icy cold dread coursing through Dean’s veins. “Is your name Losechester, boy?”

“N-no,” Dean sighed, “It was a mistake, Dad. Coach says we’ll get ‘em back in the playoffs.”

“I didn’t realize that Coach Singer was your father,” John snapped, causing Dean to wince at the volume of his voice.

“He’s not,” Dean began, “But, Da-“

“You are such a disappointment, Dean. You don’t even deserve to play on that team,” John slurred, the sound of something breaking coming through the line.

Dean bit his tongue in anger, knowing better than to argue when his father was drinking. He caught Sam’s sympathetic glance from across the table, and he ducked his head.

“Can you imagine what your mother would think,” John stated cruelly, “She loved football, remember? Imagine how she would feel to have a disappointment of a son.”

“Mom is dead, Dad,” Dean finally snapped. “And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not here either! Maybe I would have more time to practice if you were here to be a father to Sammy!”

He heard the call disconnect, and he slammed his phone down on the table, putting his head in his hands. Angry tears slid down his cheeks, and he felt like he was going to vomit. How could he say such things?

“...Dean,” Sam whispered, his own tears sliding down his face. “You know it’s not true. He just...”

“He’s drunk,” Dean finished, “Yeah, what else is new. Look, man, I’m sorry you had to hear that. Please know that I don’t blame you for any of this.”

“But you’re right,” Sam mumbled. “If Dad was here, you could have more time to do the things you wanted, Dean. I get that it must suck being a senior and having to take care of your dorky brother.”

“First of all, you absolutely _are_ dorky,” Dean admitted, causing Sam to roll his eyes and laugh. “But Sammy, you aren’t this burden that stops me from doing all the shit I want to do. I like spending time with you, dude.” He reached across the table to ruffle Sam’s hair, earning a loving glare. “But if you tell anyone I said that, I _will_ deny it.”

“Jerk,” Sam scoffed.

“Bitch,” Dean smirked, twirling his spaghetti with his fork.

* * *

The next morning at school, he had arrived late, having slept in from being up most of the night. As much as he knew they weren’t true, he could not stop thinking about his father’s words. They had cut him deeply, and he couldn’t think of anything but his mom. Sammy had been too young to remember the accident, but Dean remembered it clearly. He had asked her to make lasagna for dinner that night, and she hadn’t had all of the ingredients. When she went out to the store to get them, she was blindsided by a semi-truck that had run the red light. Dean is still haunted by the howl of despair that his father had let out when the officers came to the door. His father had never been the same. It was Dean’s fault that she was gone.

He had passed Lisa on his way to homeroom as usual, but she had only quickly pecked him on the cheek before hurrying off to her own classroom. Okay, something was _seriously_ up with her. Dean frowned, deciding to confront her later. His day dragged by slowly, and he had zoned out in most of his classes. He had almost gotten in trouble in Calculus, but thankfully Benny had mouthed the answer to the question he had been asked. He loved that guy.

As the bell rang, signaling his last period of the day, Dean made his way to Castiel’s room, realizing with a flutter of curiosity that he would he getting his next assignment today. No, he was _not_ excited about it. Just curious.

When he entered the classroom, Castiel smiled warmly from his desk, and before Dean had realized it, he was smiling back. _So much better than Michael_ , Dean thought.

“Hello, class. Apologies for the extended absence last week,” Cas began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m afraid I had a family emergency to attend to. I am _so_ sorry for leaving you with the _other_ Mr. Novak in my absence.” He did a dramatic shiver, met with laughter from the class.

Dean frowned as he realized that his instructor did not mention the death in his family that he had told _him_ about, but quickly pushed that thought aside. Castiel had started passing back their classwork from the week before, placing each stack of papers face down on the corresponding student’s desk. When he got to Dean’s desk, he gave him a wink before setting down his own stack of work. Dean’s stomach flipped as he turned the stack over, noting check marks at the top of each page, and “100” on the essay they had written in class on Friday. Dean smirked at the underlined “Excellent job, Dean!” scrawled at the top of the page, even smiling at the bee sticker that had no right to be as cute as it was. _Awesome_.

At the end of class, Castiel approached him with another envelope, waving it mysteriously in front of him, “I am very impressed so far, Dean. I have not read your second assignment yet, but I’m sure that you did very well.”

“Uh, thanks,” Dean smiled sheepishly at the praise, clearly embarrassed. “My uh, condolences for your loss.”

Castiel gave him a sad smile, and placed the envelope in his hand, “Thank you, Dean. That’s very kind of you. I’m afraid that loss is never easy.”

Dean’s heart clenched at the thought of his mother, “No, it definitely is not. I remember when we lost my mom, it was really hard. I was little, but it didn’t make it any easier, you know?”

Castiel stared at Dean in shock, not realizing that he had also lost his mother, “I... I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay, it’s been a long time. I still remember her pretty clearly, but my little brother was just a baby at the time. He doesn’t remember her at all, and I still don’t really know if I should envy him or not,” Dean remarked sadly.

Castiel swallowed hard, feeling a great wave of sadness wash over him. The young man before him was wise beyond his years, even if his colleagues only saw his letterman jacket. He felt the need to say something, to take this child’s pain away, but he was unsure how. “Well, I’m sure your mother loved you very much, Dean,” he said softly. With a great sigh, he continued, “It was my mother I lost last week. Cancer. I had been so busy with the start of the school year that I hadn’t been to see her recently. When we spoke on the phone last Saturday, she seemed fine.”

Dean looked up in shock, his heart sinking to his stomach at the information that the older man had chosen to share with him. “...Cas, I am _so_ sorry,” Dean said quietly, not realizing that he had called the other man by his nickname.

Castiel stared at him for a moment before dropping his head, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him, “My apologies, Dean. I did not mean to burden you with my personal affairs.”

“No! Uh- I mean, it’s fine,” Dean said quickly, mentally kicking himself. “It’s totally okay. I mean, I get it, you know? I’ve been there.”

Castiel nodded, finally meeting Dean’s eyes again, “You are very kind. More so than many of your peers. You should be proud of that, Dean.”

Dean blushed, embarrassed once more at the praise, “Don’t mention it.” He glanced at the clock, realizing the time, “I should go, I have practice.” He grabbed his bag, tossing it over his shoulder and made for the door. As he reached the threshold, he turned back to the other man, “Um, I know they probably like, frown upon this, and I know I’m just some dumb high school kid, but... If you ever need to talk, you can talk to me.” He smiled at Cas, then hurried off to the locker room for practice.

The moment he was gone, Castiel sank into his chair and cried.


	7. Did we just become best friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know he didn’t do it, right?"
> 
> Dean stared at the girl in confusion, “What?”
> 
> “Your southern friend? Benjamin? He didn’t do it,” she stated simply, typing away on her laptop.
> 
> “And who the hell are you,” Dean questioned defensively.
> 
> “Charlie. Charlie Bradbury,” she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this one up today, I wanted it to be a longer chapter.

Dean had been rewarded with running a mile due to his tardiness to practice, but he was grateful for the time to think. He had _never_ talked to someone about his mother like that, not even to his closest friends. He had confided one of his innermost struggles with his _teacher_ of all people. 

_What the fuck._

The poor guy had looked so... vulnerable. He had fought hard to repress the urge to hug the guy, and Dean was _not_ into chick flick moments. He was aware that he had just had an intimate glimpse into the other man’s life, and he had a feeling that not many people had shared the same experience other than maybe his family. _Wait, his family!_ Cas had been out for the entire week while his brother covered his classes for him. Why hadn’t _he_ taken the week off as well?

He had finished his mile, hustling to join up with the rest of the team for practice before Coach could pull him aside to berate him again. It was a great practice, the kind that made him ache all over. He had picked up his brother and headed home. When he had finally stepped out of the shower, he had found his brother in the kitchen, attempting to make pancakes and bacon. Dean had been touched by his brother’s attempt to help, and only teased him _once_ as he joined in, fulfilling his brotherly duty.

Full, clean, and exhausted, he sat down in front of the TV and pulled out his phone. He stared at the picture Lisa had set as his lock screen of the two of them embracing after a game last year. He was grinning from ear to ear, and her face reflected his own happiness as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Feeling weirdly uncomfortable, he unlocked his phone to avoid looking at the picture any longer. He pulled up his girlfriend’s contact, thumb hovering over the call button for several seconds before finally making the call. _No answer._ He sighed, sending her a quick text to let her know he was heading for bed, fighting the feeling of unease that had trickled into his insides like ice water.

* * *

Dean woke up early the next morning, and for once, he and Sam were actually early arriving to the school. He decided to head to his homeroom early so that he could review the information for his quiz in Earth Science first period. As he approached the corner where his locker was located, he heard low voices. _Familiar_ voices.

“Look, if he finds out he’ll _kill_ me. I’m not going to do that to him,” Benny hissed.

“He doesn’t have to know. He’s too busy playing house with his brother,” Lisa hummed.

“He’s my brother, too, do you not understand that? It’ll crush him,” Benny pleaded.

“You weren’t saying that the other night,” she snapped. “Just think about it.”

Dean heard Benny slam his locker shut, and he had to fight the rage that wanted to slam _Benny_ up against the lockers. That’s why she had been acting so strange. She was cheating with his best friend. He quickly grabbed his belongings, slamming his own locker shut for good measure. He wasn’t necessarily surprised at Lisa, but his best friend? He felt like he had been stabbed straight through his gut.

After contemplating what to do with this information for his first three class periods, the lunch bell finally rang. Dean had ignored Benny all through second period, but before he could even protest, his friend had dropped into the seat beside him as they did every lunch period.

“Hey, brother,” Benny greeted brightly, clapping an enormous hand onto his shoulder.

Dean shrugged the hand off, trying to control his silent rage. He glared at his tray, refusing to look up from his chicken sandwich.

“O-kay,” Benny mumbled, leaving his friend alone for the time being.

Dean picked at his lunch, remaining silent for the duration of the lunch period. When it was finally time to leave, Benny stopped him again. 

“Look, man. The Dean I know would have inhaled his lunch,” Benny accused. “Are you feeling okay, brother?”

Dean squared his shoulders, clenching his jaw, “I don’t know, dude. Does a _brother_ sleep with his best friend’s girlfriend?”

Benny recoiled in shock, “What? Dean, I would never do tha-“

“Save it. I overheard your little conversation this morning,” Dean snarled, taking a step closer to the other teen.

“Now, you best listen to me, Dean Winchester,” Benny warned, “It ain’t what you think it is.”

Dean threw the first punch.

When he found himself on his back, being pinned down underneath the bigger boy, he took satisfaction in the fact that his nose was bleeding, and from the looks of it, broken. He shifted his weight, throwing Benny off of him before crawling over him to deliver more blows. A circle of students had formed around the two of them, and Dean realized that he was also tasting blood.

Suddenly, he felt hands grab him by his shoulders, yanking him off the other boy, “That’s enough, Mr. Winchester.”

_Shit, Cas._

Michael Novak was there as well, dragging Benny up from the floor and putting his arm underneath him to support his weight. Benny was in rough shape. _Coach is going to kill me._ He pulled against Cas’s grip on his shoulders, but surprisingly, he didn’t even budge.

“ _Enough_ , Dean,” Cas hissed, pushing him in the direction of the principal’s office. He forced him down into the chair, glaring at him with disappointment just as Michael deposited Benny into the other.

“Mr. Lafitte will need to see the nurse,” Michael stated, “Can you handle these two for a moment while I fetch her, Castiel?”

“I think you’ll find that I am more than capable, Michael,” Castiel threatened. “They’re good boys.”

Michael scoffed, exiting the waiting area with arrogance. _Pompous dick._

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but I am greatly disappointed in both of you. Dean, you’ll be lucky if you aren’t suspended. Are you both really going to feed into the stereotypical jock archetype? You’re better than that,” Castiel scolded, staring hard at both of them. Neither student would meet his eyes.

* * *

After separate meetings with the principal, Benny was given two days’ detention, but sent home for the day due to his injuries. Dean had received a weeks’ worth of after school detention, and worst of all, would be benched for this week’s game. By a stroke of luck, it was Castiel’s turn to staff detention for the week, meaning that he wouldn’t be stuck with Michael Novak.

When his final class was up, he simply stayed put, watching the other prisoners drift through the door. There were four of them. In the front of the room was Chuck Shurley, the local pot dealer, in the middle, sat Dean. In the back of the room was Sam’s friend Kevin, looking terrified. And to his left, was a red-headed girl he had never seen before.

“Good afternoon,” Cas called from the front of the room, staring them all down. “I’m sure you all are aware of why you are here.” He glanced at Dean, giving him a hard stare before turning to the others. “I need to go make some copies, so please remain seated while I am gone. You may talk amongst yourselves, but do not leave the room. Dean, I suggest that you use this time as an opportunity to work on your essay.”

Dean blushed, looking down at his desk. He reached down into his backpack, realizing that he had not even opened the envelope yet. He tore along the seam, pulling out the folded paper within. As his eyes slid over the words, his heart sank, Cas was trying to make a point. “How have the choices you’ve made in your life shaped who you are?”

A flash of red to his left, caught his attention, “You know he didn’t do it, right?”

Dean stared at the girl in confusion, “What?”

“Your southern friend? Benjamin? He didn’t do it,” she stated simply, typing away on her laptop.

“And who the hell are you,” Dean questioned defensively.

“Charlie. Charlie Bradbury,” she smiled, “Aren’t you going to ask how I know?”

“Look, Charlie,” Dean sighed, “With all due respec-“

“Dude, you never say ‘with all due respect’. The next thing out of your mouth is automatically disrespectful,” she grimaced. “Benny didn’t sleep with your girlfriend, Prince Charming.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. How do you know,” Dean inquired, crossing his arms.

“I was at the party on Friday. Not by personal choice, but I did get some ass out of it,” she smirked, noting the bewildered expression on Dean’s face. “That’s right, Ken doll. I bat for your team.”

Dean blushed, realizing that his mouth was open, “I mean, that’s cool. Good for you.”

“Save it,” she dismissed, grinning at him, “Anyway, when I was sneaking off upstairs, I encountered your very drunken friend in the hallway. Your girlfriend had tried to kiss him, but he pushed her away. He then puked on her shoes, and spent the rest of the night passed out in the bathtub.”

Dean shook his head, “But, I know what I heard.”

“Dude, does that jacket restrict the blood flow to your brain? She lied. Benny was so drunk he doesn’t remember a damn thing from that night. She convinced him that he had slept with her in an attempt to get him to _actually_ sleep with her. Your girlfriend’s kind of a bitch.”

He rubbed at his eyes in irritation, mulling this information over, “Look, even if that is true, how do you know?”

Charlie brightened immediately, “Oh. That’s easy. I hacked her phone.”

“Wait, you hacked her phone? Isn’t that like, illegal or something,” Dean sputtered.

“Eh, the less details you know, the better. Let’s just say, I owe her some strife after what she did to me in middle school,” Charlie muttered bitterly. “She texted her friend Meg and told her about the whole thing.” She turned her computer, showing him the messages.

Dean felt the air leave his lungs. Benny was innocent, and he was a dick. He pulled his phone out and sent a quick text to Lisa, confirming that they were done, then to Benny.

**Dude, I am so sorry. I am such a dick.**

His phone buzzed immediately with a text from the other teen.

**You couldn’t have come to that realization before you broke my nose? I told you it wasn’t like that.**

Dean winced, knowing that he had done a number on his best friend.

**Yeah, well, I know the truth now. Lisa and I are done.**

As if on cue, he received a message from Lisa.

**Are you fucking kidding me? Call me.**

Dean put his phone away, staring at Charlie, “Okay, I’ve gotta know. Why are you here?” He gestured vaguely around the room, noting the smirk on her face.

“I am so glad you asked,” she chirped. “Do you remember the assembly we had last week?”

“Yeah, the ‘Say NO to drugs’ thing?”

“Remember how the presenter’s screen locked up and started playing Return of the King? That was me,” she beamed.

Dean laughed, shaking his head at the girl, “That was _awesome_. Novak was pissed.” He remembered the man rushing onto the stage and trying everything he could think of to get the presentation back, finally pulling the plug completely. The entire school had been talking about it all week. He smiled, reaching over to shake her hand, “Charlie, you are something else. I like that.”

“Did we just become best friends,” she grinned, shaking his hand back.

He noted the movie reference, and nodded, “I think we just did.”


	8. Do it for him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a week. He had broken up with his girlfriend, stood up to his father, pummeled his best friend, and made a new friend.
> 
> When he returned home around noon, he froze in fear as he pulled up to the house. His dad’s truck was in the driveway. He clutched the steering wheel, debating his next move. Should he leave? What if his dad was drunk again? If he left, he could be putting Sam at risk. With a heavy sigh, he removed his keys from the ignition, going to face his fate.
> 
> Entering the house, Dean immediately found Sammy sitting at the kitchen table, eyes cast down. He rounded the corner on alert, running directly into his father, who was carrying… pizza? 
> 
> “What the hell?”

By the third day of detention, Dean and Charlie were texting constantly. Lisa had showed up at his house unexpectedly the night before, begging for him to take her back. He had simply laughed, slamming the door in her face. He had gone to visit Benny the day after the fight, and after a long talk, they decided they were fine. Charlie had replaced Lisa at their lunch table, and he felt incredible. He had worked on his essay that first day of detention, but he hadn’t finished it until the next day. He had emailed it to Cas, who had looked up from his computer with a small nod in acknowledgment.

Dean knew that Castiel was still disappointed in him, and it left him feeling uneasy. He would rather the man just be pissed at him like Coach was. When Coach had found out about the fight, he had reamed the two of them for being “idjits”. He was even more pissed that Benny would have to sit on the bench beside him Friday night due to the state of his nose.

On Thursday, when he normally would have met with Castiel discuss his previous week’s essay, Castiel had simply given him his printed assignment with some scrawled comments. He never actually said a word. When Dean looked at his essay, he got to the last page, smiling at the “98. Your brother is lucky to have you” in Cas’s signature messy handwriting.

On Friday, his last day of detention, he had waited for others to join him in the room, but no one did. _Great. Just me and you, Cas._ For the first hour, it had been silent, and Dean had finished the rest of his assignments for the weekend.

He was scrolling through social media on his phone when the silence was broken, “Why, Dean?”

Dean froze, looking up at the other man who was staring at him with unsettling intensity, “Um, I-I’m not sure I understand.”

“Why do we hurt the ones we love,” Castiel muttered, so softly that Dean barely heard him.

Dean glanced down at his paper, considering how to answer, “Well, I’m not really sure. Maybe because we put so much of ourselves into it that we get scared, you know? We try to protect ourselves.” When he was met with silence, he risked a quick peek at the other man, cringing at what he saw. Castiel looked pained, his gaze fixated on his hands. “Is everything okay?”

Castiel blinked, finally looking back up at Dean, “You know what? I think you’ve learned your lesson. Have a good weekend, Dean.”

Dean looked at the clock, realizing that he still had 45 minutes left of detention, “But, there’s still like an hour left.”

“I am aware of the time,” Castiel snapped, collecting his belongings. “Go home, Dean.”

He hadn’t waited for Dean to get up before swiftly exiting the classroom. Dean sat in shock, wondering what had just happened. He still had several hours until the game, so he decided to go kill some time in the library with Sammy and Kevin. He texted Charlie, needing to verify that what had just happened was weird and out of character.

**D: You’re never going to believe what just happened**

**C: Omg you met Scarlett Johansson??**

**D: What? No!**

**D: Seriously, do you think about anything else?**

**C: You know I love me some ScarJo. What’s up?**

**D: So, Novak just got really weird all the sudden**

**C: Wait, you mean the guy that willingly wears the trench coat every day was really weird?**

**D: I hate you**

**C: No, you don’t.**

**C: What happened?**

**D: He asked me why we hurt the ones we love and then he let me out of detention 45 minutes early**

**C: Okay, that is kinda weird.**

**D: Yeah, no shit**

**C: Did he say anything before that?**

**D: No, not at all**

**D: I tried to ask if everything was okay and he stormed off**

**C: Hmmm. I’m not sure, Dean. Maybe he had a bad day?**

**D: I have no freaking clue.**

**C: I wouldn’t worry too much about it. He’s a responsible adult that can handle his own shit.**

**D: Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for listening.**

**C: Anytime, dude. Remember, if you talk to any hot cheerleaders tonight, give them my number.**

Dean rolled his eyes, pocketing his phone and saying his goodbyes to head for the locker room.

* * *

**From: Castiel Novak <castfromthepast83@gmail.com>**

**To: Dean Winchester <allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com>**

**Date: September 26th, 2020, 8:04 AM**

**Subject: Sorry**

**Hello, Dean.**

**I hope that you’re enjoying your weekend. I would like to apologize for my actions yesterday. I’m afraid I haven’t been myself lately and can assure you that it will not happen again.**

**Congratulations on the win, and I’m sorry you didn’t get to play.**

**See you Monday,**

**Castiel N.**

Dean had read the email three times, but it had not helped to loosen the knot of concern in his stomach. Did this have something to do with his mother’s passing? Something was up with Cas, and as much as he wanted to help, he had to remind himself that Cas was his teacher, not his friend. _He doesn’t owe you any explanations._ He had gone for a drive early Saturday morning, needing to clear his head. What a week. He had broken up with his girlfriend, stood up to his father, pummeled his best friend, and made a _new_ friend.

When he returned home around noon, he froze in fear as he pulled up to the house. His dad’s truck was in the driveway. He clutched the steering wheel, debating his next move. Should he leave? What if his dad was drunk again? If he left, he could be putting Sam at risk. With a heavy sigh, he removed his keys from the ignition, going to face his fate.

Entering the house, Dean immediately found Sammy sitting at the kitchen table, eyes cast down. _Here we go_. He rounded the corner on alert, running directly into his father, who was carrying… pizza? “What the hell,” Dean blurted in confusion.

“Watch your mouth, Dean,” John Winchester scolded, giving Dean a stern look as he set the box on the table. He gave his son a small smile, gesturing to the other seat for him to sit. “Come on, eat.”

Dean glanced at his brother in clear confusion, searching for answers and being met with a shrug in return. He slowly sank into the seat, looking at his father as if he had grown a second head. “Um, thanks?” He took a slice, regarding it carefully as if it might explode before taking a tentative bite.

John helped himself to his own slice, acting as if this was the most normal thing in the world, to be eating pizza in the kitchen with his sons on a Saturday afternoon. _Maybe for other families._ “I’m sure you have questions,” he said quietly, meeting his son’s eyes for the first time in years.

“What are you doing here, Dad,” Dean accused, sitting back in his own chair and sizing up his father’s appearance. “We haven’t seen you in almost six months, and suddenly you just show up out of the blue?”

Sammy glanced between the two of them with a wince, expecting a fight. He kept his mouth shut, looking back down at the table.

“I got a call from your principal the other day,” John began, wiping his hands with his napkin.

Dean tensed, realizing that he knew about the fight. Of course the principal would have had to contact his father, it was his job. _Shit._ “It was stupid. I’ve already paid for my mistake and everything is all good now.”

“Dean,” his father hesitated, scratching his jaw with discomfort, “I owe you an apology.” Both boys stared at their father in shock, clearly expecting anything _but_ an apology. “I was not very kind to you when we last talked.” John looked down in shame, refusing to meet his son’s eyes once more, “Christ, Dean. The things I said… I want you to know they weren’t true. I mean that.”

Dean was suddenly angry once more, remembering the pain that his father’s sharp words had inflicted, “Well, you said them. You can’t take that back.”

John winced, quickly glancing up at Dean, “I know that. I know I said them, but I… I wasn’t myself.” Their father’s drinking habits were no secret to either of the boys, but Dean had been dealing with the drunken rages and taking the majority of the damage to protect Sammy. “The things I have put you boys through,” he shook his head in disbelief, “Your mother would be so disappointed in me. Hell, _I’m_ disappointed in me.” He took a deep breath, meeting their gaze once more. “I’ve been sober for a week. When I got the call from your principal, I couldn’t help but feel like it was my fault.”

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, Dad, this isn’t the first time you’ve ‘been sober for a week’. Like, if it’s true, good for you, but you can’t just keep doing this to us, especially to him.” He pointed at his brother, getting up from the table, “If you want to even make a dent in all the shit you’ve done, you’re going to have to do a lot more than that. I can’t speak for Sammy, but he needs you more than I do. I’m almost 18, Dad. How much time can you honestly say that you’ve spent with me since Mom died? If you won’t do it for me, at least do it for him.”

He gave his father one last once over before grabbing his keys and leaving again.

John didn’t stop him.


	9. Close encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Referenced Drug Use/Overdose
> 
> At last, he had found himself sitting in a bar. He didn’t want to think. He couldn’t think anymore. 
> 
> An overdose, a bar, and a chance encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't panic! Sorry for not uploading yesterday, I had insane writer's block. I'm going to try to keep the uploads daily, but I have several assignments to finish as well, plus Finals to study for. I have no intentions of leaving this story behind! :)

Castiel was overwhelmed.

It had been a week since he had buried his mother, and things had been going poorly since. One of his star students had started a fight and landed himself in a week’s worth of detention, and he had woken up the next morning to a flat tire. On Friday, he had been on detention duty with just Dean, when he had received a text from Gabriel to inform him that his brother had relapsed and was in the hospital following an overdose.

He hadn’t meant to, but he had looked to Dean for answers, and the boy had tried. He had felt immense guilt after snapping at his student and had sent him an email the next day to apologize. When he ended detention early, all he had wanted was to get to the hospital, terrified of losing another loved one.

They had planned to sign Lucifer into a detox unit the next morning, but when he and Gabriel had arrived to the hospital, he was gone. Castiel had walked out of the hospital, leaving his brother and his car behind. He wandered aimlessly for hours, ignoring the multiple calls and texts from Gabriel.

At last, he had found himself sitting in a bar. He didn’t want to think. He couldn’t think anymore. He had already lost his mother, and now Lucifer was God knows where, probably searching for more of what had nearly earned him a spot beside her. Even he and Michael had been close once. He sat for who knows how long, wallowing in the mess that had become his life. Finally, the bartender had cut him off, and he had stumbled out of the bar, unsure of where to go. He rounded the corner, colliding with a solid wall of muscle and warmth. He stumbled backwards, landing on his rear in confusion as his eyes tried to work with his drunken brain to identify the source of the collision.

“Shit, man. I am _so_ sorry,” he heard a voice start to say, feeling hands grasping him and pulling him to his feet. “Are you alrig- Mr. Novak?”

Cas blinked, finally focusing on the form in front of him. _Dean,_ “Oh. Hello, Dean.”

Dean eyed him with suspicion, the smell of alcohol burning his nostrils. The dude smelled like he had been _swimming_ in it. “Uh, sir? I know that it’s not really any of my business, but I have to ask. You didn’t drive anywhere, right?”

Cas scrunched up his face in thought, “I don’t think so.” He quickly switched to anger, pointing an accusing finger at his student, “And don’t call me ‘sir’!”

Dean put his hands up in surrender, bemused at the situation he had literally walked into, “Right, my bad. Mr. Novak-“

“Call me ‘Cas’,” he said cheerily, “I like when you call me that.”

Dean nodded, refusing to think about what the _fuck_ to say to that right now and choosing to focus on making sure the man was safe, “Right, Cas. Got it. Are you here by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Cas said with a sniff, “Everyone leaves me.” Before Dean could react, he had a sobbing drunk man in his arms, clinging to him tightly.

He hugged the man back, mostly to steady him, “Cas… What happened?”

“I went to a bar,” he hiccupped into Dean’s shoulder, “And I drank it.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, trying to think of what to do. “Okay. Do you have someone I can call for you?”

Cas pulled himself together, seeming to have a moment of clarity, “Oh, God! Dean. I… Jesus.”

Dean bit his lip in amusement, “I mean, I can try to call Jesus for you, but I don’t know if he has good reception or not.”

Cas glared at him, choosing to be mature and stick out his tongue.

Dean’s green eyes twinkled in amusement, but he was still concerned about his instructor, “Look. Whatever rules be damned, you’re coming with me. You’re not walking anywhere else like this.” He pulled Cas toward his car, stopping when he realized that Cas had also stopped. He looked back at the other man and laughed as he saw how wide his eyes were.

“ _This_ is your car,” Cas marveled, staring at the ’67 Impala that his father had given him at the start of his senior year.

“Yup,” Dean grinned proudly, “This is Baby. My Dad and I completely restored her.”

“Wow,” Cas said, allowing himself to be steered into the passenger seat, taking in every detail of the car.

Dean shook his head, sliding into the driver’s seat, and gripping the wheel, “Okay, step one, complete. So…not to be creepy or anything, but do you mind telling me where you live?”

Castiel’s eyes went wide, and stared at Dean in fear, “Oh my god, Dean. This is inappropriate on _so_ many levels! I’m going to be fired and I haven’t even graded your essay yet!” He put his head in his hands, “I am so screwed.”

“Whoa, there, Cowboy,” Dean reassured him, amused at the fact that only Cas would worry about not grading his essay before losing his job. “It’s okay. I’m just going to drive you home, make sure you get inside safely, and then I’m going to leave. We never have to talk about this again. I don’t plan on telling anyone about this, so your secret is safe with me.”

Castiel thought about it for a moment, gripped with fear at the idea of losing his job, “Yes. Okay. You can take me home.”

The moment Dean pulled into Castiel’s driveway, a man came running out of the front door, screaming at him. “No, no. _Hell_ no! I don’t care who you are, you are _not_ taking advantage of my emotionally compromised brother!”

_Brother? Taking advantage?_ Dean looked at the shorter man in confusion, taking a step back, “Whoa, dude. I’m just bringing him home.”

“ _Exactly_! My brother disappears from the face of the Earth for hours, and has finally come home, _drunk_ , with a random dude to hook up with? Yeah, I’ve already heard Castiel’s Greatest Hits. Not happening again,” Gabriel glared, jabbing Dean in the chest.

Dean recoiled, more out of shock than fear as he processed the other man’s words. _Again? Cas was gay? What the fuck?_

“Gabriel, enough,” Cas snapped, pushing his brother away from Dean. “This is one of my students, you ass. He found me stumbling out of a bar and made sure I got home safely.”

Gabriel looked at Cas in surprise, then at Dean, who returned his gaze with a look that said ‘duh’. He immediately doubled over in laughter, wiping tears from his eyes, “Oh. Well, fuck me, this is _awkward_. Hey, my bad.” Gabriel offered his hand to Dean, “Gabriel Novak. Thanks for bringing my baby bro home in one piece. No hard feelings?”

Dean blushed, taking the hand and shaking it firmly, “Dean Winchester. We’re good, I’m just glad he’s okay. I should probably take off.” He looked at Castiel with raised eyebrows, “I’ll see you Monday.”

Cas nodded, then hung his head in embarrassment, “Thank you again, Dean.”

Dean got into his car, swiftly backing out of the driveway with lots to think about on his way home.

As he disappeared at the end of the street, Gabriel turned to his brother, smacking him upside the back of his head, “You _idiot_!”


	10. Chain Mail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dean,” he began quietly, “I know we said that we wouldn’t talk about it again, and after today I don’t intend to, but I need to apologize.”

Monday morning had been painfully awkward for everyone. Dean had arrived at the school with Sammy at the exact time as Castiel, and he had blushed in embarrassment at the memory of Saturday night. Castiel, also blushing, had smiled at Sam, sticking his hand out to shake as Dean introduced the two of them. They chatted politely for a few moments, Cas asking Sam about the book in his arms, and beaming as Sam began to chatter excitedly. As they parted ways, Dean began to think back to the events of that night, even though he had thought plenty about it all weekend. 

He was massively unprepared to round the corner and find Charlie dressed in chain mail, leaning against his locker. “Dude, I don’t know what you’re doing, but this is _awesome_.”

“Extra credit for my history class, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel like a bad-ass right now,” she smirked, turning in a circle to show Dean.

“So, _this_ is what you left me for? Are you fucking kidding me,” snarled a voice from behind them. _Of course. Lisa_.

Dean turned to face his ex with a glare. “What are you even talking about, Lisa,” he demanded, already tired of her games.

“Your new whore,” Lisa smirked, crossing her arms to accentuate her cleavage. “You definitely downgraded, Dean.”

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Charlie beat him to it, “What’s the matter, Braeden? Jealous?”

“Poor, Charlotte,” Lisa said pityingly, “You couldn’t have me, so you had to steal my boyfriend? How pathetic.”

Charlie’s confidence flickered for a fraction of a second before she pushed off the locker with a devilish grin, “We all make poor decisions in middle school, kind of like the time you drank all those cans of pop at Alicia’s sleepover?”

Lisa’s jaw dropped in horror, “Y-you wouldn’t dare.”

“Actually, I would,” she smirked, “But I don’t have to.” She put her arm around Dean, not looking away from the other girl, “Sorry to disappoint, Lis, but I still dig chicks. Dean-o here doesn’t meet the criteria. Shame though, I’m a _much_ better kisser.” She grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt, pulling him into a kiss, much to his bewilderment. After several seconds, she pulled away to give Lisa a pointed look and a victorious smile. Dean blushed furiously, still in shock.

“You _bitch_ ,” Lisa shrieked, raising her hand to strike when it was caught from behind.

“That’ll be enough of that, Ms. Braeden,” Castiel warned, trying his hardest not to look amused. “I think you’d best accompany me to the principal’s office.” As she stomped past him, Castiel looked back at Dean with a knowing smile and a wink.

Alone once more, Dean finally snapped out of it, turning to Charlie, “What the _fuck_ , Red? You couldn’t have warned me first?”

Charlie snorted, patting him on the shoulder, “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” She leaned in closer to whisper, “And what the fuck _me_? I’m not that one that has a teacher as a bodyguard! I saw that wink, what was that about?”

Dean shook his head, “It’s not like that. He knows what happened with Lisa and Benny, he broke up the fight, remember? He heard her starting shit, and he intervened. If anything, genius, he was protecting _you_.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, adjusting the chainmail she was wearing, “Bitch, please. I would’ve kicked her ass with or without this armor.” The bell rang, signaling homeroom, and she pushed off the locker once more, “Live long and prosper, dude.”

Dean saluted back, shaking his head at the craziness that had become his life. Collecting his belongings, he closed his locker, off to start his day.

* * *

The rest of the day had gone by relatively smooth, and Dean had a blast recounting the events of that morning to Benny, who had begged for a reenactment of the kiss. Charlie had called him a perv, and they had spent the rest of lunch arguing over who had the larger body count.

By last period, Dean had completely forgotten about the awkwardness between him and Cas. As he took his seat, he felt eyes on him and looked up just in time to catch Castiel looking away. _Interesting_. 

He managed to focus throughout the lecture, noting several more glances in his direction throughout, and finally it was time for the bell. The room cleared quickly, and he and Castiel were suddenly alone. Castiel hesitated a fraction of a second before approaching him.

“Dean,” he began quietly, “I know we said that we wouldn’t talk about it again, and after today I don’t intend to, but I need to apologize.”

Dean shifted, leaning back in his chair, taking in the sight of his disheveled teacher. This was clearly bothering him. He had circles under his eyes, and his hair was messier than usual. Even his shirt was wrinkled. _Since when the hell do you pay this much to his appearance?_ “Cas, it’s okay. I was happy to endure an awkward encounter with your brother in exchange for knowing that you were safe.”

Castiel blushed a deep red, remembering Gabriel’s nonchalance regarding his sexual history, “Christ, Dean. I had no idea that he would say those things, and I am absolutely mortified.” He took a deep breath, “I don’t usually drink that much, or at all, really. I had just had a really bad night.”

“Hey, I get it, man,” Dean said softly, “You just lost your mom. I think people would understand if you needed to just, take a break from that.”

Castiel sadly shook his head, “My mother’s passing may have had a hand in my choices that afternoon, but it was not what started it. My brother had overdosed.”

“Wait, what? Oh my god,” Dean sputtered, concern flooding his features. “Gabriel?”

Cas shook his head once more, taking a seat on top of one of the desks, “There are four of us. Michael is the oldest, then Lucifer, then Gabriel, then me.”

“Christ, Cas,” Dean mumbled softly, “Is he okay?”

Cas sighed deeply, shoulders sagging in defeat, “I am uncertain. He survived the overdose, but when Gabe and I returned the next morning to take him to rehab, he was gone. Neither of us has heard from him since.”

Dean stared at the floor in silence, his heart breaking for the man before him. He had lost his mother, and nearly his brother in under a week. Now he had no idea if his brother was okay or not. He winced, making a note to hug Sammy later, whether he liked it or not.

“God, I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this,” Cas lamented, standing to pace the room. “I am afraid that our entire relationship has become wildly inappropriate.”

_Relationship?_

“I really don’t mind,” Dean reassured him, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t think we’ve done anything wrong.”

Castiel regarded him for a long moment before breaking the silence once more, “Your sincerity is touching, Dean. Truly, it is, but we can’t keep doing this. You are my student, and I am your teacher. I have my career to think of. You have friends and a future of your own.” He paused, moving to his desk to retrieve an envelope, “Your work has been remarkable these past few weeks, Dean. I believe that you will pass this class without the extra assignments. This will be the last one. Then, you can go on with your life and I can go on with mine.”

Dean frowned, feeling uneasy at his words. He knew Cas was right, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed growing closer to the man these past few weeks. Weirdly, he had come to consider Cas as a friend, and thus felt the sting of his rejection more strongly. He swallowed hard, seeing it pointless to argue, and stood up, shrugging into his backpack, and taking the envelope, “Okay, Cas. If that’s what you want. One last assignment.”

Castiel clenched his hands painfully, turning away from his student, “Mr. Novak. You should call me Mr. Novak.”

Dean did not respond, but Castiel could feel his presence, his sadness. He remained facing the board until he finally heard Dean’s footsteps walking down the hall. 

He let his forehead fall against the whiteboard in misery, attempting to collect himself. _What the fuck._


	11. A Deal is a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was officially Thursday, and he was dreading his last meeting with Castiel.

Dean stirred from a fitful sleep, looking blearily at the red numbers on his alarm clock. 4:26 AM. He let his head fall back onto his pillow with a frustrated sigh. He had been unable to sleep for over a week now, and his entire body ached from exhaustion.

It was officially Thursday, and he was dreading his last meeting with Castiel. Since their argument last Monday, things between them had been nothing but proper, and Dean hated it. Castiel was _not_ a stereotypical teacher. Now he was acting like his older brother, and other students were starting to notice his behavior as well. On Tuesday, Charlie had texted him during her class with the man in question.

**C: What the hell, Dean? Did you guys break up or something?**

**D: Not funny, Red.**

**C: Oh, come on, Dean. You two have been practically to the point of finishing each other’s sentences, and now he is suddenly cracking down on everyone?**

**C: What did you do?**

**D: I didn’t do anything. I didn’t ask to be pulled into his bullshit, and yet here we are.**

**D: The dude has family problems that make my family look like the freaking Brady Bunch.**

**D: And just because he’s gay doesn’t mean that I am! It was never like that. Let him do whatever or whoever he wants. It’s not my business.**

**C: He’s gay?? I knew it!**

**C: How do you know??**

**D: His brother told me.**

**C: Dean you better start talking now!**

**D: There’s nothing to tell**

**C: Bullshit**

**C: I’m coming over later and you’re going to tell me everything.**

**D: Fine, but I have to meet with him after class.**

**C: Omg good luck!**

Dean slipped his phone back into his pocket, sulking. He was so sick of this crap. He hadn’t asked for any of the weirdness that had happened between them. Cas had required him to write extra assignments and meet him after class on Thursdays to discuss those assignments, and that was _all_ that he had agreed to. Apparently, the universe had other plans. He _had_ grown closer to his instructor in the past few weeks, but he could do without that… right?

He picked his head up, striding right into Castiel’s classroom and taking his seat. Normally, Castiel would be waiting outside the door to greet his students as they entered the class. Now he sat silently at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he typed on his computer. He looked tense, as if he was waiting for disaster to strike. Suddenly, he looked up, and Dean was staring directly into blue eyes. _Shit._ He had been caught staring, and now he couldn’t look away. Castiel’s eyes searched his face, and his expression faltered for a moment into something softer. Dean looked away, clenching his jaw. He was getting sick of the fucking mind games with this guy. When he turned his attention back to the older man, he glared at him until he finally looked away, sadness evident in his features.

Dean did not look up from his notebook for the rest of the class period, occasionally feeling Castiel’s eyes on him. He remained in his seat as the others filed out of the room. Finally, he lifted his head once more, crossing his arms as he waited for Castiel to speak.

Castiel shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other as tension filled the air between them. He had noticed the dark circles beneath his student’s eyes, the same ones that he knew were under his own. Dean wasn’t sleeping either. He had tried to rationalize that there were thousands of reasons why a teenager wasn’t sleeping, but he knew why, even if he could not admit it. He had caught him staring at him at the beginning of class, and then Dean’s anger had come through. This was _his_ fault after all.

He had been stupid to have disclosed so much of his personal life to his student, putting him into a situation that put both of them at risk. It wasn’t like he had slept with his student, but there was no denying that their student-teacher relationship was far from professional. He was still embarrassed that his student had been the one to take him home after a night at the bar, even if he had only done so out of concern for his safety. _He_ was supposed to be the responsible one. _He_ was the one who had fucked everything up. It was time to make it right.

“Dean,” he began, wincing at the unsteadiness of his voice, “We need to discuss this.”

Dean eyed him with suspicion, tensing in his seat, “There’s nothing to discuss here. I’m here to talk about my paper.”

Castiel sighed, dropping the subject, “Alright, Dean.” He opened his desk drawer, pulling out the assignment and handing it over to him. “It was excellent work, as usual.”

He accepted the paper, quickly locating the now-familiar ‘100’ at the top of the paper. His eyes scanned the scrawled comments in the margins, feeling a sense of pride at the praise for his work. His stomach dropped as he realized that he would not be having this opportunity anymore, wouldn’t be alone with Cas anymore. _This sucks._ It took a moment before he realized that Castiel was speaking to him, “Sorry, what?”

“I was saying that I have no doubts about you passing the class,” he smiled sadly, glancing down at his feet, “So, as I said before, this is your last assignment. Aside from your regular classwork, of course.”

Dean nodded, not quite knowing what to say. Since their first meeting when he had been told he was failing, he had grown close to Castiel. He could easily call them friends, but he knew that that closeness was frowned upon. It was unfair, but he understood why he needed to keep his distance. He cared greatly for Castiel, and he certainly didn’t want him to lose his job. Bracing himself for the bittersweet end to their friendship, he stood slowly, “Well, thank you for giving me the chance to redeem myself and for having faith in me. It’s given me a lot to think about.”

“It’s been a pleasure watching you develop into a great writer,” Castiel spoke quietly, “But I don’t think that you needed me to do that, Dean. You are intelligent and kind. Never let anyone make you think that you are not those things.” He nodded toward his assignment, in which Dean had described his difficult relationship with his father. _Excluding a few details of course._

Dean swallowed with difficulty, his throat tight with emotion, “Thank you... Cas.”

Castiel regarded him sadly, “We still have two more weeks in this quarter. Then you will be on to your next set of classes. I know you can do this, Dean. You’re going to have a great senior year. You’ll have to stop by to say hello from time to time.”

Dean tilted his head in confusion, “But, you said all that stuff abou-“

Castiel pushed off his desk, moving closer and dropping his tone, “The lines of our relationship were becoming dangerously unclear, Dean. I know that you know that, too. There is no harm in remaining friendly, but from a distance.”

Dean stood, taking in the sudden shift in conversation, “It’s been nice having someone to talk to. I don’t think I could just throw that away.” He licked his lips, glancing up at Castiel, who was only a half inch taller than he was, “Besides, Castiel, you haven’t kept up your end of the bargain.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, his breath hitching in panic, “Dean. W-what are you talking about?”

Dean smirked, taking a step closer, “I completed all your assignments. I’m passing.” He chuckled at Cas’s break in composure, “Friday night. You’re coming to the game.”

He let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over him at the turn in conversation, “Christ, Dean. You had me worried for a moment there.” He wiped at his face, shaking Dean’s hand with the other, “I suppose you’re right. A deal is a deal.”

Dean grinned, excited at the chance to show off his skills, “Great. It’s gonna be awesome.” He gathered his things, heading for the door, “Oh, and wear blue.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, grabbing his own belongings and departing the classroom with Dean, “Whatever, Winchester.”

They smiled and waved to each other as they headed to their separate cars. Sammy was waiting. As Dean pulled out of the parking lot, he turned up his music, singing along.

“What’s got you so happy,” Sammy asked in confusion, nose already in a book.

“Just a good day,” Dean countered, turning the music up louder to annoy his brother. He relaxed into his seat, hand sliding over the wheel with confidence.

_Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all._


	12. Friday Night Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wait,” he said quickly, holding up his hand, “How will I know that you actually showed up?”
> 
> Castiel feigned offense, "I will be there tonight. As for proving it, I’m sure my presence at a school function for the first time in the five years since I’ve joined the district will garner some attention.”
> 
> Dean nodded, satisfied with his answer, “Cool. Maybe I’ll see you later?”
> 
> “I look forward to it,” he answered genuinely.

Dean had never been so nervous in all of his life. Not only were they playing against their rivals, but Cas was coming to watch hi- _them_ play. He had stayed up until 2 the night before talking to Charlie about everything that had happened. She was also coming to the game but insisted that she would be watching to see that he kept his promise rather than to check out the cheerleaders as usual. 

At school, for the first time ever, Castiel was dressed down. He sported dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt with their school logo emblazoned across the front. Dean, among other students, had been staring at him all day, though not all for the same reasons.

When the bell rang to signal the end of class, Castiel approached him with a shy smile, “I am so out of my element here, but I did promise.”

Dean returned his smile warmly, gesturing to his wardrobe choice, “Relax, dude. It looks good on you.” He froze, internally cringing at the words he had chosen, “Uh, I mean, like, it suits you.”

Castiel blushed, secretly enjoying the compliment, “Well, good luck tonight, Dean.”

“Wait,” he said quickly, holding up his hand, “How will I know that you actually showed up?”

Castiel feigned offense, his jaw dropping, “You really think I would try to pull a fast one on you? I’m hurt, Dean.” Dean gave him a knowing look, and he burst into laughter. “Okay, you’re right. Normally, I would try to get out of this at any cost, butI _will_ be there tonight. As for proving it, I’m sure my presence at a school function for the first time in the five years since I’ve joined the district will garner some attention.”

Dean nodded, satisfied with his answer, “Cool. Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“I look forward to it,” he answered genuinely.

* * *

“Jesus Christ, why are there so many people,” Castiel grumbled, slipping his hands into his pockets to avoid accidentally touching anyone.

“Relax, baby bro! It’s football! People love their football,” Gabriel answered, decked out in school pride.

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered grumpily, “You’re a people person.”

Gabe rolled his eyes, dragging his brother up the steep bleachers to find a seat, “Can’t you feel that? The excitement? The energy? This is the school you teach for! Aren’t you excited to be surrounded by people that love the school, too?”

“My people skills are rusty,” he glowered, relieved that they were finally taking a seat. “I prefer a classroom with maybe 20 students, not a stadium full of people! Speaking of which, is it _always_ this crowded?”

“Not usually, but we’re playing Springfield tonight,” Gabriel offered, eyes watching the marching band on the field.

“Right, yes,” Castiel snapped, “Because a normal person knows what that means!”

“ _Chill_ , Cassie,” Gabriel crooned, making his brother glare even more at him, “By the end of the night, you’ll be a pro.”

“Doubtful,” he sighed, taking a sip from his coffee. He could see why this was exciting for some people, but he would much rather be at home, curled up with a good book.

“Mr. Novak?”

He looked around looking for the source before his eyes focused on the waving two rows down— Charlie Bradbury. He waved politely, smiling at her as she climbed up to come say hello.

He turned to his brother, clapping him on the back, “This is my student, Charlie Bradbury. Charlie, this is my brother Gabriel.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she grinned, shaking his hand. She turned back to Castiel, looking him over, “What are you doing here? I hardly recognized you without the trench coat.”

Gabriel snorted beside him, and Castiel shoved him, causing him to dump some of his hot chocolate down the front of him. “Asstiel,” he muttered, wiping at the mess.

Castiel had worn the same clothes from school that day but had added a hoodie and a ball cap that he had stolen from Gabriel, “I’m incognito. I can see it’s not a very good disguise, though.”

She shook her head, “Not at all, but that’s okay! I think a lot of people will be really happy to see you here!” She shuffled awkwardly, lacking her usual confidence as she pulled out her phone, “Do you care if we take a selfie?”

He paused briefly, considering the question before nodding, “I suppose that will be okay.”

“Great,” she exclaimed, sitting down on his right and flipping the phone into selfie mode. He leaned into the camera and gave a genuine smile, happy to have made a memory with his student. The principal was always chastising him about not having any pictures in the yearbook at the end of the year.

“Hey,” he began, unsure of how to ask, “Do you mind emailing that to me? I would like to send it to the principal to prove a point.”

“Sure! Not a problem,” she tapped away quickly on the screen, and he felt his pocket vibrate. “Thanks, Mr. Novak! I hope you enjoy the game!” She turned to Gabriel, “It was good to meet you, too! You’re much more exciting than the _other_ Mr. Novak.”

Gabriel smirked, “If only you knew, sister. Good to meet you.”

She returned to her friends, and Gabriel leaned over to nudge his brother, “I think she wants me.”

Castiel laughed, shaking his head, “First of all, that is inappropriate on so many levels, and second, I sincerely doubt it.”

Gabriel bristled, looking at Castiel in disbelief, “And how would you know?”

“Because Charlie is a lesbian,” he stated deadpan.

Gabriel considered this for a moment before shrugging, “Whatever. Why are all of your students so hot?”

“You’ve only met two,” Castiel argued, looking to his brother in shock.

“But am I wrong,” Gabriel asked, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. 

Castiel went red, tensing beside him before whispering harshly, “You can’t talk about my students like that, what if someone hears you?”

Gabriel opened his mouth to answer just as the football team entered the field, and he was quickly drowned out by the cheers from the stands and the fight song blasting through the air.

* * *

Dean was reeling at the win they had just secured, finally showered and able to gather his belongings. They had defeated the other team 21–14 and had celebrated in the locker room. He had scored the final touchdown, and he had never played harder in his life. Coach had pulled him into a hug as he stepped into the locker room, giving him a rare “Proud of you, boy.”

Now that the others were mostly gone, he was able to check his phone, seeing that he had multiple notifications. He had one text from Sam, two from his dad, _12_ from Charlie, and an email... from Cas.

His heart flipped in his chest, and he forced himself to save it for last.

**S: That was awesome! At Kevin’s. Have fun tonight. ;)**

_Nerd._

**J: Hey, Dean. I know you didn’t want me to see me, but I saw you play tonight.**

**J: I’m really proud of you, son. Your mother would be, too. Call me.**

He felt pinpricks of pressure at the backs of his eyes, but he was able to control himself for now.

**C: DEAN**

**C: HE IS HERE**

**C: HOLY SHIT**

**C: HE IS WEARING A HAT**

**C: YOU’VE GOTTA SEE THIS**

**C: Downloading...**

**C: HE BROUGHT HIS BROTHER**

**C: THE HOT ONE**

**C: YOU ARE SO WELCOME FOR THAT PICTURE**

**C: HE IS CHEERING FOR YOU OMG**

**C: I SAW HIM TAKING PICTURES**

**C: SEE YOU AT BENNY’S**

He shook his head, making a note to talk to her about texting him in all capitals. He waited for the image to load, closing his locker and retrieving his keys from his bag. When he glanced back at his phone, he froze. _Holy shit_. Castiel looked completely different in casual wear, and Dean couldn’t stop staring. The dark color of the hoodie brought out his eyes, and the hat cast shadows on his face that made him look mysterious. Castiel was a good-looking guy already, but in this image? _Holy fucking shit_.

Tearing his eyes away from the picture and his sudden anxiety, he clicked into his email.

**From: Castiel Novak <[castfromthepast83@gmail.com](mailto:castfromthepast83@gmail.com)>**

**To: Dean Winchester <[allidoiswinchester@gmail.com](mailto:allidoiswinchester@gmail.com)>**

**Date: October 9 th, 2020, 10:03 PM**

**Subject: Here’s your proof**

**Hello, Dean.**

**Congratulations on securing the win! You played very well, both from my limited perception and from Gabriel’s fanatic one. I’m impressed, not that I doubted you in the first place.**

**If my observation is not enough to convince you that I was in attendance, here are some photos to prove it to you. Charlie managed to secure the first of many student selfies tonight.**

**See you Monday,**

**Cas**

Dean downloaded the three attachments, clicking into them one by one. First, was the selfie of him and Charlie. Second, was a silly picture with Gabriel, and third was a picture of Dean about to throw the ball, zoomed in to show his name and number on the back of his jersey. Dean felt suddenly overwhelmed, forcing himself to take a seat as he reread the email. Not only had he included the pictures, he had also signed it as ‘Cas’.

His head swam with the high of the evening so far, feeling strangely emotional. Without thinking too much about it, he saved the pictures to his phone, and quickly pulled his hoodie on to leave. He was _so_ screwed.


	13. To be young and in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me something I don’t know,” Dean grumbled, taking the opportunity to down the rest of his beer.
> 
> Charlie gave him a pointed look, “You’re in love with Castiel Novak.”

“Oh my god, you are _so_ screwed,” Charlie mused, picking at the peeling rubber on her Converse.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Dean grumbled, taking the opportunity to down the rest of his beer.

Charlie gave him a pointed look, “You’re in love with Castiel Novak.”

He jolted in surprise, spitting beer everywhere before turning to face her in horror, “What?? No, I’m not! I just... I’m not...”

“You just what, Dean? Have a dude crush,” she asked, snorting in laughter. “That ship sailed a _long_ time ago.”

“Bullshit,” he growled, wiping up the mess from his spit take, “Unlike you, I am so unbelievably not gay.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m not saying that you’re a power bottom, dude— which, is _totally_ fine if you are by the way— But you definitely have some not-straight feelings for our not-straight teacher.”

Dean felt his cheeks grow heated, knowing that they were likely bright red, “Jesus, Charlie! I like him, but not like that. Besides, he’s a teacher and I’m a student. Even if I _did_ have the hots for him— which I don’t— that shit would _not_ fly.”

“You’re 18 in 3 months, Dean,” Charlie shrugged, “And you are far from the first person to ever be hot for teacher.”

Dean hugged his knees to his chest, thinking back to earlier that evening. He thought of the pictures now saved in his phone, and he let his chin rest on his arms, “How did this even freaking happen?”

“Even Dean Winchester, dude bro extraordinaire, is not immune to the woes of love,” she sighed dreamily, earning her a punch on the arm.

She punched him back, then scooted closer to him, “Look, Dean. Maybe you should just talk to him.”

Dean turned to face her with a grimace, “It’s not that simple, Red. I can’t just put all my confusing shit on him, that’s not fair. Plus, he could lose his job over something like this.”

Charlie groaned, then laid back across the floor to stare at ceiling, “Why does everything always have to be so complicated?”

Dean reclined back to stare upward as well, “I have no freaking clue. As if things aren’t already hard enough with trying to plan for life after graduation.”

Charlie murmured in agreement, listening to the chatter of the party downstairs. She and Dean had gone upstairs to get away from the noise and to talk. “Did I ever tell you about when I knew I was gay?”

Dean glanced at his best friend with a warm smile, “No, but it wasn’t very long ago that we became friends, remember?”

“Mrs. Hartford, 2nd grade. She always gave me extra apple slices, and I was smitten” she grinned.

“Seriously? 2nd grade? I was expecting something… sexier,” he smirked, dodging the pillow she attempted to hit him with.

“It’s not like the pornos, Dean,” she chastised before giggling, “Well, not at first, anyway.”

“So there _is_ something sexier,” he laughed, grabbing his stomach as she landed a successful hit, “I’m kidding! I yield!”

“You’re a dick,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“You knew that when we became friends, remember,” he chuckled, standing to climb onto the sofa.

“My _point_ in telling you my story,” she sighed, growing more serious, “Is that it isn’t necessarily some big ‘Aha’ moment. Sexuality is much more complicated than most people think. You can feel a certain way about someone without feeling that way about everyone else, and you can like whoever you want. I wish things were simpler for you, Dean, but ignoring the problem won’t make it go away.”

Dean shut his eyes, letting his mind wander, “Thanks, Charlie. I appreciate it.” _Great. Just what I need. An identity crisis._

* * *

Castiel had gone to the game, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t had a good time. He was touched by the reactions of his students at seeing him there and had been willing to take as many selfies as they had wanted. Gabriel had been true to his word and had helped him to understand what was happening as the game progressed. He had found himself cheering along with the crowd, especially for Dean. Even to an outsider like he was, it was clear that Dean’s performance was spectacular. Gabriel was raving about many different things that he did not understand, but it was obvious that Dean Winchester was a spectacular athlete.

Gabriel had noticed him snapping a picture of Dean with his phone, but had kept quiet about it at first. “So, baby bro, I see that you have become a fan.”

Castiel jerked in alarm, quickly tucking his phone into his jacket, “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

Gabriel smirked, “Relax, Castiel. I’m talking about the game.”

“Oh,” he stated, relief washing over his features, “It’s far more entertaining than I had thought it would be.” He took a bite of the hot dog he had procured from the concession stand, “Perhaps… We could come to more games together?”

Gabriel stared at his brother in surprise, “I mean, sure. I go to every game, so I suppose you can come with me, as long as you promise not to cramp my style.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the field just as the play began, Dean taking the ball and sprinting for the end zone, dodging players as he ran. The crowd was on their feet, and Castiel was no exception as he cheered for his student. Dean leapt, one final attempt to dodge a tackle, and he landed just inside the end zone. Deafening cheers erupted around the stadium, and Dean got to his feet, being surrounded by his fellow players as they celebrated.

Castiel was beaming with pride, watching as Dean pulled his helmet off, jogging toward the side lines to be swarmed by the rest of his team. The players took the field once more to get the extra point, and the game was over two minutes later, 21-14.

* * *

When he arrived back at home, he had sent Dean an email with the pictures from the game. He was surprised to have had a great time, and he plugged his phone in to charge while he went to go take a shower. He thought of Dean, of how hard he had worked to get as far as he had in his life and was incredibly proud of the man he had become. He had only known Dean since last year when he transferred, but the changes had been obvious. He was unlike so many others in his position, willing to let their popularity go to their head. Dean was humble, kind, and defended those that others picked on. He was intelligent, a talented athlete, and ruggedly handsome. Castiel was undeniably attracted to him.

He let the water wash over him, resigning to let his secret stay his own. This would go no farther. He would not allow his own foolishness to jeopardize Dean’s future or compromise his ability to do his job. Dean was not going to suffer because of this. Things would remain professional and he would get over his silly infatuation. He did not have a choice in the matter.

He exited the shower, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror, as he dried off. Dean’s safety was his top priority. Nothing was going to get in the way of that, not even him. He thought about the way that the student looked at him, and had a hunch that Dean’s feelings were similar, which was dangerous for them both. They could not allow these feelings to progress any further, even it hurt them in the process.


	14. Not the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is not the end, Dean.”

Dean did not want this moment to end, knowing that there was a decent likelihood that he would not get this chance again. He sighed, reveling in the clean, addicting scent of Cas, clinging to him for longer than was necessary. When they finally pulled away, their eyes met, both aware of what had just happened between them. Feeling exposed, Dean cleared his throat, “I uh, guess I should probably get going. We have an away game tonight.”

Castiel nodded, offering a slight smile, “Yes, that’s probably good. Gabriel and I will be making the drive tonight as well. I’m sure your performance will be exceptional, Dean.”

Dean grinned at the other man, “That’s awesome! It’s going to be a great game. Coach has been working us hard all week, and we are going to kick some ass.”

Castiel laughed at Dean’s excitement, touched by the realization that his attendance had brought about that excitement, “I look forward to it, Dean. You should go.”

Dean deflated ever so slightly, remembering that he would no longer be seeing Castiel every day, “Yeah, you’re right. I… I’m going to miss you, Cas.”

Castiel met his eyes, searching the deep green with purpose, “I’ll miss you, too. I doubt that we’ll be rid of each other so easily, though. This is not the end, Dean.”

Dean took a step closer, eyes glancing over Castiel’s lips for a long moment, “No.” Shaking his head to meet Cas’s eyes once more, he turned towards the door, “No, it’s not. I’ll see you later, Cas.”

* * *

“You’re in deep, kid,” Gabriel shrugged, turning onto the highway.

Castiel sat with head against the window, staring out at the passing reds, oranges, and yellows of an Ohio autumn. “I _can’t_ be, Gabriel. This is so far from being okay, that I don’t even want to talk about this.”

“You haven’t actually done anything wrong, baby bro,” he reassured him, glancing over at his brother before changing the radio station. “It’s not like you’re Mrs. Robinson or anything like that.”

Castiel groaned, putting his face in his hands, “I just need to get a grip. I _know_ this cannot happen. I absolutely cannot let this happen.”

Gabriel gave him a knowing look, “Yeah, Cas. I’m sure that if you give yourself a stern talking to, it’ll all just stop.”

“You’re a dick, Gabriel,” Castiel growled, leaning back in his seat. “Wake me up when we get close, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Mhm,” Gabriel smirked, “I wonder why that i- OW! What the fuck, Castiel?” Castiel smirked, nestling into his hoodie, his hand slightly stinging after punching his brother in the thigh.

* * *

Dean was on his back, head swimming, and his ears ringing. He was aware of people surrounding him, but struggled to focus on where he was, or why he couldn’t move. Coach Singer jogged out to kneel beside him, as well as one of their trainers, all quickly assessing a likely concussion. They helped Dean off the field, pausing as he puked on the sideline, eliciting more shouts of disapproval from the stands.

Castiel had returned from the bathroom just in time to watch Dean being loaded into the ambulance, his heart plummeting. He sprinted up the stands to his brother, quickly making his way through the crowd. “What the fuck happened,” he demanded, glancing around to watch both teams’ coaches arguing with the referees.

“Number 16 on the other team hit him helmet-to-helmet, and Dean didn’t get back up,” Gabriel shouted over the ‘boos’ resonating around the stands.

“Is he going to be okay.” Castiel questioned, panicking over the welfare of his student.

“Honestly, Cas? I don’t know,” Gabriel winced, removing his hat, “Most likely a concussion, but it could be more serious like a neck injury.

Commotion from the field brought their attention back, looking to see the other coach and the player in question being escorted out of the stadium. Cheers erupted from their side of the stands, and play resumed. Castiel took his seat once more, his chest constricting in anxiety. He was uninterested in the outcome of the game at this point, too worried about Dean’s injury to care. Several minutes later, the game was over, and they had won, but it wasn’t the same without Dean on the field. Against his better judgment, he quickly made his way down the stands to where he could yell out to the head coach, “Robert!”

Coach Singer turned quickly, pulling his headset down to address his colleague, “Damn it, Novak. I’ve told you to call me Bobby. What can I do for you?”

“Right,” Castiel muttered sheepishly, “Have you heard anything regarding Dean’s condition?”

Bobby’s expression softened ever so slightly when Dean was mentioned, “That boy’s tougher than he looks, which is saying somethin’. They just texted from the hospital saying that he has a mild concussion, and he ought to be okay to play next week.”

“That’s good news, I’m sure he is happy to hear that,” Castiel smiled, “Congratulations on the win, Coach.”

Bobby tipped his hat to his coworker, then rounded up the boys to the locker room, and Castiel returned to his brother to relay the news. As they climbed back into the car, he pulled out his phone to send a quick message.

**From: Castiel Novak <[castfromthepast83@gmail.com](mailto:castfromthepast83@gmail.com)>**

**To: Dean Winchester <[allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com](mailto:allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com)** **>**

**Date: October 23 rd, 2020, 10:17 PM**

**Subject: Feel Better**

**Hello, Dean.**

**I’ll make this short so that you don’t have to strain your eyes reading this. I hope you’re feeling better and be sure to get plenty of rest this weekend. Coach Singer tells me that if all is well you will be able to play next Friday. I know this is important to you.**

**Please take care of yourself,**

**Cas**


	15. No turning back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By Thursday, he was back to normal, and attended school with his completed work. He produced the expected excuse for his fourth period class, and the rest of the day had gone by smoothly. He had an appointment the next morning to clear him to play in the game that night and was more than a little nervous. 
> 
> As he entered the classroom, he was met with a glare by the man he had been dreading to see all week, “Nice of you to finally join us, Winchester.”

Later that night when Dean came home, Charlie had stayed with him, making sure that he followed his concussion protocol. Dean’s phone had died in the process of being evaluated at the hospital, but Charlie had made sure it was plugged in the moment he arrived home. Dean was not up to reading any messages, so he allowed Charlie to unlock his phone and read them to him. Suddenly, she shrieked in excitement, causing Dean to instantly wince.

“Oops, sorry,” she grimaced, making sure Dean was okay before continuing on. “It’s him! He emailed you!”

“Read it,” Dean grunted, relaxing back into the recliner.

Charlie read it to him, and Dean let a smile slowly spread over his face, “Do you want me to respond to him for you?”

“No,” Dean said quickly, “I’ll do it myself when I feel up to it.”

Charlie smirked, setting the phone down before turning the TV on low. 

* * *

Dean was extremely sensitive to light, and became easily nauseous when moving, so he was given permission to stay home from school for the first few days of the following week. He had received lots of texts and calls from friends, even from his father who had managed to remain sober since their conversation in the kitchen. He had offered to come home and help with Sammy, but Dean had insisted that he not miss work. He may have kept his promise so far, but Dean had watched his father relapse over and over again. He was still weary of his presence, especially in his current state. He had ignored most of the messages, but he did not dare to ignore Charlie. 

She had brought his work to him, the new semester having started Monday. To his dismay, he had discovered that due to a conflict with classes he had taken before transferring, he still needed to take an economics course. Which meant that his study hall had been replaced with Economics 1 taught by none other than Michael Novak. 

Charlie was in the class with him, but when she had come over with his schoolwork and a note from Michael Novak demanding an excuse for his absence, he was already dreading this semester.

By Thursday, he was back to normal, and attended school with his completed work. He produced the expected excuse for his fourth period class, and the rest of the day had gone by smoothly. He had an appointment the next morning to clear him to play in the game that night and was more than a little nervous. 

As he entered the classroom, he was met with a glare by the man he had been dreading to see all week, “Nice of you to finally join us, Winchester.”

Dean glared back at the other man, pulling his doctor’s excuse out of his pocket, “It’s good to be back.” He turned and headed for his seat, exchanging a smirk with Charlie as he sat down.

At the end of class, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder, “Mr. Winchester.”

He turned to face Michael Novak, bracing himself for whatever this was about “Yes, sir?”

“Just a reminder that in my class, you are like any other student. You may have had special treatment in my younger brother’s class, but you would be a fool to expect anything of the sort here,” he smirked.

“Don’t worry, sir, I would never expect something like that from you,” Dean countered, holding his head high.

“You would do well to watch your mouth, boy,” Michael snarled, “Perhaps you would like to think about that attitude of yours in detention?” He opened his desk, tearing off a slip and quickly signing it.

Dean clenched his jaw, accepting the detention slip that was given to him, “Of course, sir.”

He showed the slip to his friends at lunch, Charlie immediately outraged on his behalf, and threatening to report him to the principal. “Relax, Red. Novak’s just a miserable man, and he just happens to be obsessed with me.”

He did not notice Castiel passing by their table at that exact moment, nor did he notice him rushing out of the lunchroom in anger.

* * *

To Dean’s surprise, he learned that Castiel would be staffing detention this week, and he knew that it wouldn’t be that bad. He actually arrived for detention that afternoon with a smile on his face, excited to see him. He was completely caught off guard by Castiel refusing to even look at him.

He took his seat, not bothering to mask the hurt and confusion on his face. _What is going on?_ _Did I do something wrong?_ He sat quietly for the two hours, working ahead on his work for next week. When it was time to go, Castiel still hadn’t looked at him. He waited for the others to leave, and he approached Castiel’s desk, ready to confront him. “So, am I just destined to piss off every Novak brother today?”

Castiel’s eyes flicked up to meet Dean’s, pain clouding his expression, “I don’t know, Dean. Maybe we’re just miserable men that just happen be obsessed with you.”

“What are you,” Dean started before realization dawned on him. “Cas, it wasn’t like that. I was talking abou-“

“I don’t really care to hear anymore from you today, Dean. Just go home,” Castiel sighed, shrugging into his trench coat.

“ _Castiel_ ,” he said angrily, “How could you possibly think I meant you? Do you really think that after _everything_ I would say something like that?”

Cas froze, looking down at his feet, “But I heard…”

“I was talking about your brother. He gave me detention for standing up for myself because he hates my guts,” Dean continued, taking a step closer. He glanced to the door for a long second before lowering his voice. “Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but I could _never_ say something like that about you.” He tentatively reached for Castiel’s face, forcing him to look at him as he cupped his cheek, “You have to know that.”

Castiel gulped, his cheeks flushing as he gazed into Dean’s eyes, “I…I believe you.”

Dean took a deep breath, and let his hand fall to his side, “I’ll see you later, Cas.”

Castiel sat down hard, trying to gain control of the situation. A major line had just been crossed, and he suspected that there would be no turning back now. He was in love with Dean, and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. He only hoped that they would both survive the fallout.


	16. Scooby Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a rainy Sunday morning, and Dean was watching Scooby Doo in the living room with a bowl of cereal. The game had gone well on Friday, and he had spent all day yesterday with Charlie and Benny. His homework was done thanks to his Thursday detention, and he was happy to just relax.
> 
> Sam glanced between the television and his brother, noting a distinct change in his demeanor. He had noticed many changes in his brother recently and couldn’t quite figure out what had caused it. He finally decided to ask,“Hey, Dean? Can I ask you something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in the middle of studying for finals, and I didn't want to leave you hanging for a third day straight. Here's an update to hold you over for a few more days! I may or may not be able to get another chapter up between now and Wednesday, but after Tuesday I am done for the semester and regular updates will resume. Thank you for reading so far! See you soon!

It was a rainy Sunday morning, and Dean was watching Scooby Doo in the living room with a bowl of cereal. The game had gone well on Friday, and he had spent all day yesterday with Charlie and Benny. His homework was done thanks to his Thursday detention, and he was happy to just relax.

Before too long, Sammy had stumbled into the room with a large yawn and /major/ bed head.

Dean snorted, getting a good look at his brother’s brown locks sticking out at every angle, “ _Dude_ , you need a haircut.”

Sam eyed him suspiciously before sprawling across the couch, “You just wish that your hair looked as good as mine.”

Dean laughed, nearly spilling his cereal, “You look like a moose, Sammy. Have you even looked in the mirror?”

Sammy scowled at his older brother for a long moment, but finally stretched out once more, “Who cares? It’s Sunday.”

Dean considered this quietly, choosing to fill the silence by crunching his cereal. The next episode began to play, and Dean grinned. This was one of his favorites. Sam left in pursuit of his own breakfast, returning several minutes later with toast and oatmeal.

After the next episode ended and their breakfasts were demolished, Dean reclined back in the chair, happy to scroll on his phone and relax. Sam glanced between the television and his brother, noting a distinct change in his demeanor. He had noticed many changes in his brother recently and couldn’t quite figure out what had caused it. He finally decided to ask.

“Hey, Dean? Can I ask you something,” he began hesitantly.

Dean glanced up from his phone with a raised eyebrow, “Uh, sure? What’s up?”

Sam turned to face his brother, not sure how to begin. He looked down at his lap, feeling the awkwardness consume him, “It’s just that you’ve been... different, recently. Like, you never used to do your work and now you have it done super early. Then there’s the detentions. I think you’ve had more detention in the past few months than ever in school. And there are times when you are _so_ happy, like the day you were singing in the car, but other times you just look so _sad_. I just worry about you, dude.”

Dean paused, considering the tone of the conversation before tucking his phone away to talk to his brother. “I don’t know, dude. A lot has happened in the past few months. I’ve got some really good people in my life now, and things are changing for the better. When I was with Lisa, I always did what she wanted. Now, I’m getting to do the things that _I_ want. I have great friends, mostly great teachers, and I have you. What’s not to be happy about?”

Sam smiled, thinking of the redhead that had recently entered both of their lives, “I like Charlie. She’s really cool.”

“Charlie is a bad-ass. Don’t let her hear you call her anything but that,” Dean warned with a smirk.

Sam laughed, thinking about what his next year in school would be like. He would have the opportunity to have Castiel in class, and he wanted to know more. He had seemed really nice and knowledgeable when Dean had introduced them. “Can I ask you a question about Mr. Novak? Like, Castiel?”

Dean’s smile faltered for a quick second, which he disguised as a yawn, “What do you want to know?”

“What’s up with you two,” Sam blurted, quickly backpedaling at the look on his brother’ face. “I mean, he gave you extra assignments so you could still play football, he _pulled_ you off Benny, and he suddenly shows up to every football game?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean snapped. “There’s nothing ‘up’ with us. There is no _us_.”

Sam winced, attempting a different approach, “Look, that’s fine. I’m just saying even if there _was_ , that’s cool. I just want you to be happy, Dean.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, picking at a worn spot on the recliner, “I appreciate the concern, Sammy, but I’m fine. He’s just a cool guy that happens to be a teacher.”

Sam sighed, looking down at his hands, “I...I saw you on Friday. After detention. I was walking back from the library, and I went past his classroom to see if you were still in detention, and... I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Dean’s anxiety kicked up a storm inside, quickly consuming him. _Shit_. If his brother had happened by, then that could have been anyone. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or mortified. Maybe both. _Yeah, both is good_. “Sammy,” Dean began, voice shaking slightly, “You can’t tell _anyone_ about that, okay?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Sam answered quickly, his eyes shining with sincerity. “I would never do that to you, and he seems really nice. It’s just... has anything else, you know, happened?”

Dean blushed as he recalled the time Sammy had walked in on him and Lisa, and Sam was still mortified to this day. He never failed to knock now. “No way,” Dean replied, shaking his head. “Nothing else _can_ happen. Shit, Sammy, I don’t even know if I would _want_ anything to happen. I’m not...gay.”

“Does Charlie know,” Sam questioned, adjusting his position to hug his knees.

“Yeah, and she gave me the whole spiel about sexuality being ‘more complicated than people think’,” Dean shuddered, putting his face in his hands. “I’m just so freaking confused. I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this.”

Sam nodded, trying to understand his brother’s pain, “Well, I support you, no matter who you love.”

Dean gave his brother a small smile, “Thanks, Sammy. It means a lot for you to say that.”

“Anytime, dude,” Sam smiled back, stretching to stand up. “Why don’t you go for a drive? You always do your best thinking in the car. We can talk more about this later if you want.”

“And what are you getting out of this,” Dean asked, suspicious.

“I need a ride to Jess’s house. We’re working on our science project today,” he grinned.

“Oh, well. _Anything_ for the lovebirds,” Dean teased.

Sam rolled his eyes, walking away, “And, the moment is gone. I’ll be ready in 10.” He jogged up the stairs, going to get ready.

Dean turned off the tv, unable to stop himself from smiling. _Gotta love that kid_.


	17. The Big Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next few weeks went by in a blur, and they had made the playoffs. It had gotten colder, the unpredictable Ohio weather making each week a new challenge. Each week, Castiel was there to cheer him on. Much to his surprise, he found that he had taken an interest in the game, not only as a means of being close to Dean. They had played in the rain, the heat, and the snow. The week before, Dean had left the field so caked with mud that there wasn’t a blue spot left on his uniform. The team was on fire, and now it was time for the State Championship. The boys on the team were incredibly proud of the season they had had, only losing one game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! I'm back, and planning other stories for after the inevitable conclusion of this one. It's going to be a great summer!

The next few weeks went by in a blur, and they had made the playoffs. It had gotten colder, the unpredictable Ohio weather making each week a new challenge. Each week, Castiel was there to cheer him on. Much to his surprise, he found that he had taken an interest in the game, not only as a means of being close to Dean. 

They had played in the rain, the heat, and the snow. The week before, Dean had left the field so caked with mud that there wasn’t a blue spot left on his uniform. The team was on fire, and now it was time for the State Championship. The boys on the team were incredibly proud of the season they had had, only losing one game.

Blue Springs hadn’t made it to the playoffs in seven years and had not been to State in twenty.

The team had been excused from classes that day, leading to a great disagreement between the principal and Michael Novak, who had made a scene in the hallway that morning. The day before, Dean had stopped by at the end of the school day to excitedly chatter about the game. Castiel had hugged him tightly, telling him how proud he was, and promising to be there for the game. 

While they talked often, and occasionally shared a hug when alone, it went no further. Dean’s birthday was just under two months away, and graduation was still several months off. No chances would be taken.

* * *

The stadium was packed, and Castiel was thankful that Gabriel had insisted they arrive early. He was jittery and excited, feeling a great sense of school pride as he looked around at the massive wave of blue and silver.

A shrill whistle directed his attention back to the field as the kickoff put the ball in their possession. He watched as the play unfolded, resulting in a first down. As Dean took the field, he felt the excitement kick up in his gut, eager to watch him play. Dean Winchester was a sight to behold. His motions were precise, calculated, and he made everything look so much easier than it was. Yet another first down. As the next play went into action, Castiel could not take his eyes off of Dean, watching as he broke free from a tackle attempt to throw a perfect touchdown pass into Benny’s waiting hands.

The crowd roared in varying levels of approval, and Dean was met by the high fives of his teammates on the sideline. As he took off his helmet, he scanned the crowd, looking for that familiar form. Castiel waved, and he saw Dean’s face break into a smile as he waved back. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes, “You two are _so_ obvious.”

Castiel’s attention snapped to his brother, and he swallowed hard, “W-What? What do you mean?”

“Relax,” he sighed, stuffing his hand into his M&Ms, “Obvious to me. Not everyone else.”

Castiel relaxed slightly, removing his ball cap to wipe the sweat from his brow, “You can’t just say such things and expect me to relax, Gabe.”

Gabriel gave him a knowing smirk before standing, “I need to take a leak, and I’m going to need more candy. Want anything?”

Castiel shook his head, eyes turning back to the field, just in time to watch the other team score a touchdown. He grumbled, noting that the first quarter was nearly over already. This was going to be one hell of a game.

* * *

By halftime, the game was tied up at 14-14, and the Blue Springs Hunters were bursting with nervous energy. Dean gave a pep talk in the locker room, followed by a ballroom dance demonstration with Benny, that earned them an eye roll and a scowl from Coach Singer.

Castiel watched the band on the field, tapping his toes along to the beat and enjoying the hard work that he knew they had put into their performance. He had been in band for one year when he was in school but had not been able to keep up with it and his studies. He played the alto saxophone, which he occasionally still practiced in his apartment. Sometimes, he wished that he had been able to stay with it.

As the teams returned to the field, Castiel noticed a familiar face waving at him a few rows down. He smiled, waving back at none other than Sam Winchester. Sam nudged the man beside him to get his attention, then gestured up the stands to Castiel. As he turned, Castiel saw familiar features, realizing that this must be their father. The man tipped the bill of his ball cap to Castiel with a nod, and Cas gave him a polite nod back. This was the man that was often out of town for work and the man that Dean never seemed to talk about aside from a mention in his assignments.

Gabe yelling beside him brought him back from his thoughts, “GO! Get out of there!”

Castiel looked back at the field, seeing Dean sprinting toward the end zone with the ball tucked against him, dodging tackles. He was finally taken down at the one-yard line, and Castiel cheered along with everyone else. On the next play, Dean easily threw a pass the short distance to his teammate, securing yet another touchdown. Then another. And another. With 30 seconds on the clock, Dean called one final time-out, huddling around his team. Castiel glanced at the scoreboard, frowning at the numbers reading 35-28. They were losing. As they broke, he got into position, waiting for the snap of the ball.

Dean reared back, dodging a sack attempt and launching the ball down the field. Benny lunged forward, his outstretched hands reaching just above those of the opposing player, snatching the ball out of the air and letting his momentum take him to the ground in the end zone. The stadium erupted in a roar as Dean and his teammates piled onto Benny, celebrating their championship victory. Castiel grinned, cheering for his students and laughing at Gabriel’s enthusiastic screaming.

As the stands poured onto the field, Castiel hung back, watching the players disappear into a crowd full of fans, laughter and music from the band filling the air.

“Mr. Novak?”

Castiel turned to see young Sam Winchester standing beside him, a nervous smile on his face, “Hello, Sam! It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too,” he admitted, perking up. “So, I uh, wanted to introduce you to my dad.” Castiel noticed the man approaching, squeezing past some others to get to his son.

“You’re lucky you’re easy to spot with that hair of yours,” he chuckled, putting his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You must be Dean’s teacher, right? John Winchester.”

Castiel shook the man’s hand with a smile, “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Winchester. I am Castiel Novak.”

“Castiel, eh? That’s some name,” he remarked, removing his hat to run his fingers through his hair. “Sam told me all about how you saved Dean’s ass. Thank you for that, by the way.”

Sam blushed furiously, looking down at his feet, and Castiel chuckled softly, “Dean is a good student, he just needed some assistance. I’m sure Sam here won’t need it. Reading anything new?”

He brightened immediately, beaming up at Castiel, “Yeah! I just finished re-reading the Harry Potter books, and now I’m starting the Lord of the Rings. Dean got me the first one last weekend!”

John smiled at his son, glancing back to Castiel, “It seems you have made an impression on both of my boys. They clearly look up to you, and I am thankful for that. I haven’t been much of a role model, but my boys are good boys.”

Castiel nodded seriously, “They certainly are. I’m sure they both have very bright futures.”

John shook his hand one last time, then grabbed his keys, “Well, Sammy, we should get going if you want to pick up some pizza on the ride back.” Sam quickly waved goodbye and darted off through the crowd, forcing his father to follow him.

Gabriel returned from the concession stand with more candy. With a look from his brother, he clutched it defensively, “It’s for the road! We have a long drive.”

Castiel laughed, shaking his head at his brother, “You have a ridiculous sweet tooth, Gabe.”

Gabriel bristled, stuffing the goods into his coat pockets, “You’re just jealous that I like candy more than I like you.”

With one final glance at the field, Castiel smiled, seeing Dean take a picture with his teammates. He had worked so hard, and now his efforts had been rewarded. The smile that spread across the boy’s face was not going anywhere anytime soon, and Castiel loved that smile. His brother cleared his throat, jingling his car keys, and Cas jumped, tearing his eyes away from the field.

Gabriel had caught him staring, and he knew that his red cheeks weren’t from the cold. With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he turned and headed for the car. Castiel groaned, he was in for _so_ much teasing on the drive home.


	18. Christmas with the Winchesters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Dad,” Dean asked carefully, “Not to you know, rush you out of here or anything but like, when are you supposed to go back to work?”
> 
> John hesitated with a long sigh, setting down his own mug of hot chocolate. “Yeah,” he began, sitting back to look at his sons, “We need to talk about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to update. A lot has happened in my life, and I didn't just want to write and post a chapter that I didn't care about. I hope to update more regularly again. As always, thank you for reading!

From: Castiel Novak <[castfromthepast83@gmail.com](mailto:castfromthepast83@gmail.com)>

To: Dean Winchester <[allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com](mailto:allidoiswinchester44@gmail.com)>

Date: December 25th, 2020 8:04 AM

Subject: Merry Christmas

Hello, Dean. 

I hope you’re enjoying your Christmas vacation so far. I have been busy trying to keep Gabriel out of the candy canes while decorating and have been watching some of the movies you recommended. I would love to discuss my thoughts when we return from break.

How is your brother? Did he like the book I sent with you? Tell him that he can keep it as a Christmas present. I actually found something while I was out shopping the other day, and I had to get it for you. Please don’t feel obliged to accept it or anything like that. I’ve had a lot of egg nog, so I should stop writing and start sending.

I don’t know why I told you that.

I’m leaving.

Merry Christmas!

Cas

* * *

Dean finished reading the email, greatly amused by the drunken ramblings. He was settled in the living room, sipping hot chocolate, and watching Sammy play his new video game. He had received a handful of gifts from his father and was speechless when he went outside to discover that he had bought him new tires for Baby. 

He smiled as he thumbed back up to the part about getting him a present. He usually didn’t really care much about Christmas except for Sammy, but he found himself giddy with anticipation as he tried to guess what it could possibly be. He had also gotten Cas a small gift while out shopping for Sam and was pleased when he had stumbled upon the perfect gift for his teacher.

Dean hardly noticed his father come into the room until fingers were being snapped in front of his face, “Uh, what?”

John shook his head, going to sit next to Sam on the couch. He nudged his youngest son in the side, tilting his head toward the recliner, “Teenagers, eh?”

Sam snickered, and Dean glared at them both, “I was just checking my notifications. No big deal.”

Sam gave him a knowing look, grinning at the threatening stare his brother gave him in return. 

John noticed this quiet exchange, raising his brows in curiosity, “I think it’s safe to say I’m missing something here. What is it, Dean? New girlfriend?”

Dean shook his head with steadily reddening cheeks, “No, Dad. I’m just focusing on school right now.”

Sam glanced up once more, smirking at his brother, “Yeah, he’s always studying and doing homework now. He’s such a teacher’s pet.”

John scratched his beard with a small smile, “I would much prefer that over the fights and detentions earlier this year.”

Dean set aside his empty mug, curling up in the chair as he thought about his school year so far and his father’s sobriety. He realized that he did not know how long his father would be staying, having taken time off to focus on getting sober. He would have to go back to work eventually, or the money would run out.

His father had been staying at the Roadhouse, the local inn and pub until last week when Dean had finally felt comfortable enough to let him be with them for the holidays. He didn’t hate his father, but he did not trust him. He had hurt Dean over and over, broken promise after broken promise. He didn’t want that for Sam. Now that his dad was finally making an effort, he worried about what would happen when he returned to work.

“Hey, Dad,” Dean asked carefully, “Not to you know, rush you out of here or anything but like, when are you supposed to go back to work?”

John hesitated with a long sigh, setting down his own mug of hot chocolate. “Yeah,” he began, sitting back to look at his sons, “We need to talk about that.”

Sam paused his game, turning to face his father and glancing nervously at his brother. Dean gave his brother a reassuring nod, then braced himself for whatever his father had to say.

“It’s been great being back with you boys,” John smiled. “I know I haven’t won any father of the year awards since your mom… well, you know. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I can’t expect you both to forget any of that.” He stared down at his worn, calloused hands from years of hard work, years that he could have spent with his boys. “I just need you to see that I’m trying.”

“We do see it, Dad,” Sam chirped up, “You stopped drinking, you got us presents!” John raised his hand with a small smile, silencing his son.

“Those are both very small steps on a long road of making things right, Sammy,” he grimaced, reaching for his mug. “The last thing I want to do is leave you boys again, but I’ve got to be able to keep the lights on and keep you fed.”

“When, Dad,” Dean questioned, clenching his jaw in anticipation.

“New Year’s Day,” he sighed, looking back up to make eye contact with his oldest son. “I’ll try to come back in a few weeks, and I’ll send money as soon as I’m back at the site.”

Sam frowned, looking to his brother for support, “But, are you going to be okay? Can’t you just get a job closer to us so you don’t have to go again?”

“Sam,” he hesitated, “You know I would if I cou-.”

“Liar,” Sam shouted, jumping to his feet, “You’re always leaving us! You don’t care about us! It’s bad enough that mom is gone, but you’re the one that chooses to leave!” He ran past his father, the sound of his door slamming upstairs echoing through the house.

John hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking to his other son, “Dean, I-.”

“Save it,” he grumbled, getting to his feet as well. “I think you’d better go, Dad.”

John put his hands up in surrender as he stood, silently gathering his coat and his keys. Dean slumped down against the door, hugging his knees as he listened to his Dad’s truck leave the driveway. _Why can’t I just be happy?_

After awhile alone with his thoughts, he wandered upstairs to knock at his brother’s door, “Sammy? It’s me. He’s gone.”

“Go away, Dean,” Sam mumbled through the door.

Dean opened the door anyway, leaning against the frame, “Sorry, kiddo. The disappearing act doesn’t work with me. What’s on your mind?”

Sam rolled onto his side, facing away from his brother, “Everyone always leaves. Mom, Dad, and you’re going to leave me, too.”

“Whoa, what the hell are you even talking about, dude? You’re my brother,” Dean approached his little brother, sitting down on his bed, “Look, man. I’m not going anywhere. Okay? So get that idea out of that shaggy head of yours.”

“You’re a senior, Dean,” Sam muttered softly, “You’re 18 in a few weeks, and then what happens? You’re not going to want to drag your lame kid brother around with you.”

“Dude, _none_ of that is true,” Dean snapped, putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and rolling him to face him. “You are right about one thing, though.”

“What’s that,” Sam sniffled, finally meeting his brother’s eyes.

“You are _so_ lame,” he smirked, messing up his brother’s hair.

“And you’re still a dick,” Sam huffed, swatting his hand away.

“Seriously, Sammy,” Dean sobered, “I’m not going anywhere without you, okay? I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

Sam looked hard at his brother, searching his face for any traces of dishonesty before sitting up and hugging him tight, “I believe you. Thanks, Dean.”

Dean hugged his brother back, smiling into his shoulder, “I love you, man. Tell anyone I said that, and I’ll deny it.”

“Jerk,” Sam mumbled into the hug.

“Bitch,” Dean grinned, pulling his brother closer.


	19. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was finally here. His 18th birthday. He had already decided that he was going to spend it with his three favorite people: Sammy, Charlie, and Benny. He just had to go pick up Sam from Kevin's and they would call the others over to party until the clock struck midnight, and adulthood waited. He looked down to change the track on his car radio, and when the light turned green, he made the left at the intersection to head toward Kevin's. Too bad the other guy didn't get the memo.

The day was finally here, and he was spending it in the fucking hospital.

18 years old, and of course some drunk driver had t-boned him on his way to pick up Sammy from Kevin’s. He was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance with three broken ribs, one of which had punctured his lung, and a compound fracture in his right leg. The emergency room doctor had informed him that he would have to be on oxygen and IV antibiotics for a week until he could safely be sent home. He was furious that not only did he have to spend a week in a hospital, which he hated on principle, but he couldn’t even walk out on his own. After being treated for the lung and undergoing surgery to stabilize his leg, they had told him that the x-rays hadn’t looked great, and that there may be a second surgery in his future.

_Fucking fantastic._

He was only thankful that Sammy hadn’t been in the car when it happened, for the douchebag had plowed into the passenger side of the Impala. The hospital had contacted Mrs. Tran at his request, and Sammy would be staying with Kevin for the week until he could return home. His father had also been called and would be coming home for two weeks to help with getting Dean to his upcoming appointments. The cops had come and filed a report with him once he was stabilized, and he had been able to reassure his hysterical little brother when he had arrived. It had taken a lot of threats and convincing, but Sam had finally agreed to leave with Kevin and his mom with the promise that they would bring him back in the morning.

He had watched the clock strike midnight alone, the opposite of how he had expected to celebrate his birthday. Every year since Sammy was three years old, he would sneak into Dean’s room at midnight to wish him happy birthday and present him with whatever gift he had deemed appropriate. Dean’s favorite gift he had received was when Sam was four and he had presented his older brother with a can of SpaghettiOs. A FaceTime alert from his phone caught his attention, and he reached for it from his bedside table. _Sammy_.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping,” he rasped, voice hoarse from the oxygen.

“Shouldn’t you,” he quipped, unable to hide the concern flooding his features.

“Can’t get comfortable,” he winced, glancing toward the door. “You know I hate hospitals, man.”

“I do. How are you feeling,” Sam questioned, watching his brother for more signs of discomfort.

“Like hammered shit,” he answered honestly, starting to feel the pain creep in.

Sam’s puppy dogs eyes swept over him with worry, and then he looked down. “I should’ve stayed with you,” he whispered.

Dean gently shook his head, “No, dude. I’m glad that you’re not here. You don’t need to be seeing me like this. No point in both of us being miserable.”

“I _am_ miserable, Dean,” Sam looked up, tears filling his eyes. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

Dean, swallowed hard, ignoring the discomfort from his injuries to adjust into a better position to look at his brother, “Hey, c’mon. I’m here, okay? I’m going to be alright. No tears, dude.”

“Dean, that guy could’ve killed you,” he sniffed, unable to look at his brother.

“But he didn’t,” Dean smirked, “I guess they’re going to have to try harder than that.”

Sam laughed involuntarily, shaking his head, “You’re an idiot.”

“Whatever, bitch,” Dean grunted, trying not to laugh.

Sam noticed the pain in his brother’s features, and the smile slipped from his face, “Happy birthday, Dean.”

“If this is adulthood, I’m not impressed,” he joked, noting the nurse peeking into the room to check on him. “Thanks, bud. You should get some sleep, I’ve gotta go.”

“I’ll be there in the morning,” Sam said quickly, “Kevin’s mom is going to run me home so I can bring you your present.”

“Okay, Sammy,” Dean sighed as the nurse changed his IV and the pain medicine began to kick in once more.

“Good night, Dean,” he whispered, hanging up the phone.

He set his phone aside once more, and fell into a fitful sleep.  
  


* * *

“Dean. _Dean._ DEAN.”

Dean jolted awake and immediately regretted his sudden movements. He winced, gripping his side and slowly opening his eyes as he remembered where he was and what had put him there. He looked for the source of the voice, and noticed his brother standing next to him.

Red hair suddenly invaded his field of view as he was pulled into a very gentle, yet fierce hug by none other than his best friend.

“Charlie? What are yo-“

“SHUT UP.”

“Bu-“

“SHUT IT, DEAN WINCHESTER,” Charlie sniffled, refusing to let go of him. Dean knew better than to argue, and instead lifted his arm on his good side to hug her back.  
  
  


After several minutes, she finally pulled away, still teary-eyed. “I’m sorry, I just. I found out about it this morning, and I had to come see you.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” Dean smiled, trying to get into a more comfortable sitting position.

Sam stepped forward and grabbed Dean’s good shoulder, helping him to adjust while Charlie fixed his pillows and pressed the button to move the bed. “No offense, dude, but you look like shit.”

Dean glared at his brother, trying to relax and get more comfortable, “I look like a fucking rockstar.” Sam rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. Dean took a sip of water from the cup beside him, and froze, “Wait, how did you find out about the accident?”

Charlie’s jaw dropped, and she sat on the bed beside him, “Dude, have you not checked your phone? Your accident is all everyone is talking about. People are rallying behind you, Dean.”

Dean’s head fell back against the pillow, “Great. Just what I need, everyone in my business.” He reached for his phone and groaned as he took in the amount of notifications that he had. “Here, Sammy. You’re in charge of this.”

Sam took his phone from him with a bewildered expression, “Uh, great. What am I doing exactly?”

“I don’t know, you’re better with this crap than I am. Just, I don’t know, make a post on Facebook that tells everyone I’m okay or something,” he grumbled.

Charlie laughed, “I have a better idea.” She pulled her phone out of her bag, and reclined beside him, snapping a selfie which he managed to muster a thumbs up for. “There, I tagged you in it.”

“You’re the best, Charlie,” he sighed, feeling much worse than the night before.

Sam and Charlie exchanged worried looks, and Sam stepped forward to give Dean his birthday present.

Dean took the small box from his brother with a smile, “Thanks, Sammy.” He opened the box to find a new pocket knife with his initials carved into the handle. “This is awesome, man. Thank you.” He lifted his arm up to pull his brother in for a hug, fighting through the pain to squeeze his brother tight.

“Don’t think that I forgot your birthday,” Charlie grinned. “I’ll give you your present once you bust out of here.”

Dean smirked, “I’m just glad you’re here, Red.”

Charlie and Sam kept him entertained throughout the morning, Sam occasionally reading out texts or messages to his brother and responding as he was told. Charlie had left him to rest after eating lunch with him, stating that she had to go to work. At about 5:00 pm, Sam gently roused him from a nap.

_“Dean._ Dean, wake up!”

Dean swatted at him grumpily, “Dude, you’ve gotta stop waking me up like this.”

“Uh, I think you’re going to want to wake up,” he hissed in his ear.

Dean wiped the sleep from his eyes and opened them slowly. He focused on his brother but found that he was focused on something else toward the door. Dean turned slowly to see none other than Castiel Novak standing in the doorway holding 2 balloons and a foam take-out container.

“Hello, Dean,” he said softly.

Dean’s heart began to race, and even if he hadn’t required oxygen, he suspected that he still would have been struggling to breathe, “H-hey.”

Sam yawned loudly, standing up and stretching, “I’m going to check out the cafeteria. I’ll bring you something back.” He smiled politely at Castiel and walked past him out the door.

Castiel stepped forward cautiously, taking in the severity of his injuries and fighting to keep a calm composure, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” he rasped, suddenly finding it hard to talk.

“I… I probably shouldn’t be bothering you right now, just wanted to check on you,” he began. “Happy birthday, Dean.”

Dean felt his stomach flutter, and his lips twitched into a nervous smile, “Thanks, Cas.”

“I can imagine this is not how you would prefer to spend your eighteenth birthday,” he joked.

“Yeah, this scenario definitely wasn’t high on the list,” he drawled.

Cas stepped closer and set the balloons down beside his table, still holding the table, “I couldn’t decide whether it would be best to get a ‘Happy Birthday’ balloon or a ‘Get Well Soon’ balloon. Clearly, I’m not great at making decisions.”

Dean shook his head with a smile, “No, it’s great. Thank you.” He eyed the container in his hand with curiosity, “What uh, what’s in there?”

Castiel smiled brightly, “Well, I remember in one of your assignments you had talked about how you used to help your mother bake pies, and apple was your favorite.”

“Castiel Novak, is that apple pie,” Dean asked seriously with wide eyes.

Alarmed by Dean’s sudden shift in tone, he wearily nodded, “I hope… Forgive me if I over-stepped.”

Dean felt tears spill down his cheeks as he reached up and pulled the man into a tight hug, “…Thank you. You don’t know how much this means. Seriously, this is freakin’ awesome, Cas. Thank you.”

Castiel gingerly returned the hug, worried about hurting him in more ways than one, “I am glad that you liked it. You had me worried for a moment there.”

Dean finally let go of him and held out his hand to receive the container of pie. He quickly opened it and wasted no time taking a big bite, “Oh, fuck yes.” He closed his eyes, chewing happily, and Castiel was glad to be able to hide his blush.

He quickly polished off the pie and answered some questions that Castiel had about the accident and the extent of his injuries. He was happier and more relaxed than he had been since they brought him in by ambulance but knew that their time together was drawing to a close.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean asked quietly, fidgeting with his blanket.

“Yes, Dean?”

“How did you know where to find me,” he wondered.

Castiel shuffled uncomfortably for a moment before looking back up to face him, “They didn’t tell you who the driver of the other car was, did they?”

Dean paused, trying to remember the details of the accident and the police talking to him the night before, “Uh… Some guy named Nick?”

“Yes,” he began, speaking so softly that Dean could hardly hear him, “Lucifer Nicholas Novak. He goes by Nick on the streets.”

Dean gasped, instantly crying out in pain. He got his breath back, and stared at the other man in shock, “W-what?”

“Surely you remember me telling you about my brother’s indiscretions? I’m so sorry, Dean. You have no idea how gutted I was to find out that he had done this to anyone.” He paused, choked up with raw emotion that Dean had never seen from him. “But…”

“But what, Cas,” Dean rasped, desperately trying to process this new information.

Castiel hesitated, glancing toward the door before closing his eyes, “I was devastated to find out that his negligence had caused someone injury, but when I found out it was you, Dean, I-I lost it.”

Dean watched as the other man broke before him, and his mind raced to try and keep up, “I… It was your brother?”

Castiel stared back at him with a pained expression, “Yes, Dean. I thought you deserved to hear it from me. Before you found out from someone else.”

“I just,” he mumbled in shock, “Holy shit.”

“Dean, I am so, so sorry. I feel like this is all my fault, if I had just gotten to him and sent him to rehab, maybe thi-“

“Cas.”

“Wouldn’t have happened and th-“

“ _Cas._ ”

“And you wouldn’t be-“

“CASTIEL.”

He finally stopped talking, staring at Dean in absolute agony.

“Were you driving the car,” Dean asked him calmly.

“What? No! But I-“

“Did you specifically tell your brother to get into a car and fuck up my Baby and my eighteenth birthday,” he continued, attempting to catch his eye.

“Of course not! Dean, I could ne-“

“Castiel, look at me,” Dean said softly.

He finally met his eyes, frantic blue meeting pleading green.

“This was not your fault, man. You are not the kind of guy that fucks up somebody’s life. You’re the kind of guy that has a breakdown over what type of balloon to buy and brings a teenager pie in the hospital,” he swallowed hard, looking up at him. “Please do not punish yourself for this.”

“D-Dean, I can never forgive his actions, and every time I look at you, I’ll be reminded of what you’ve been through, an-“

“Dammit, Cas. Come here,” he ordered, tired of fighting him.

Castiel approached cautiously, “Yes, Dean?”

“I’m here. You’re here. I’m alive,” he said softly. He searched Castiel’s eyes, seeing pain and fear where there should have been clear, calm blue. “I’ll be okay.”

In an instant, he moved closer, their lips barely an inch away from each other as they heard someone at the door. He quickly moved back to his position by Dean’s bed, expression unreadable. Dean stared up at him dazed and more than a little confused. _Did he just try to kiss me?_ Sam reentered the room with a cupcake in his hand, raising his brow at his brother’s expression.

“Believe me when I say that you wanted no part of any of their pie. I brought you this instead,” Sam chuckled, handing his brother the cupcake.

“T-Thanks, Sammy,” Dean managed, only barely managing to tear his eyes away from Castiel.

“It’s Sam,” he sighed, rolling his eyes and slumping back into his spot.

Castiel recovered gracefully, and cleared his throat, “Well, Dean. I should let you rest. If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. I hope you have a quick recovery! We’ll miss you at school this week.”

“Thank you,” Dean mumbled, unsure of what the fuck was happening.

“Thank you, Mr. Novak,” Sam chirped, standing up to shake his hand, “I really appreciate you coming to see my brother.”

Cas took his hand and smiled, “It’s the least I could do, given the circumstances.” He glanced over at Dean with a sad look that Sam did not see, and Dean wished that they could talk more about what had just happened. He turned toward the door and smiled softly at them both, “Good afternoon, boys.”

Dean’s head hit the pillows and he let the last half hour run through his head, which was starting to ache along with everything else. _Cas. His brother. Cas almost kissed me._

“He almost kissed me,” Dean suddenly blurted, interrupting his brother’s complaints about the lack of veggie options downstairs in the cafeteria.

Sam’s head whipped up from his phone, and he quickly looked at the door, “ _What?_ What happened, Dean.”

Dean laughed painfully, turning to face his brother, “Well, for starters, you know the guy that did this?” He gestured at his injured body, including the leg that was elevated above the bed.

“Yeah? What does that have to do with Cas,” Sam hissed, staring at his brother in confusion and concern.

“It was his brother.” 

"Holy shit, Dean," Sam sputtered, his jaw dropping.

"I know, dude, I can't believe it either," he said softly. "I'm going to kick that guy's ass for what he did to Baby."

Sam looked suddenly uncomfortable, and he looked down at the floor, "Dean, did he not tell you?"

"Tell me what," Dean demanded, studying his brother.

"That guy died," Sam whispered.


	20. Welcome Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright let’s recap,” Dean snapped, drawing his letterman jacket closer around him in the frigid February air. He glared up at the weather-worn building, willing it to give him another reason to be pissed off. “Charlie? You’re driving. Benny? Anyone looks at me sideways? Kick their ass.”

“Alright let’s recap,” Dean snapped, drawing his letterman jacket closer around him in the frigid February air. He glared up at the weather-worn building, willing it to give him another reason to be pissed off. “Charlie? You’re driving. Benny? Anyone looks at me sideways? Kick their ass.”

  
  
Charlie saluted him, taking her place behind his wheelchair, “Yes, sir.”

  
  
“Hey, hey, hey! This ain’t Driving Miss Daisy, okay,” he grumbled, already wishing that he was at home instead.

  
  
“You’ve got to relax, Dean,” Benny chuckled, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “We’ll take care of you, brother.”

  
  
Dean had been out of school for two weeks, following another surgery on his leg. Castiel had not been back to visit him, although he had hoped he would return. He was tired, he couldn’t walk, and he couldn’t even use crutches to get around because of his broken ribs. He was trapped in a freaking _wheelchair_ and he was in pain. School was not at the top of his to-do list right now. He glowered as he was wheeled into the school, daring anyone to mess with him. The other students stared for a moment, but he was met by many cheers of “welcome back” as he was taken to his locker. _What the-_ Every inch of his locker was covered by cards in various colored envelopes with a bouquet of ‘Get Well Soon’ balloons swaying proudly from the heating vent on the ceiling.

  
  
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Charlie chirped, stepping around him to open it and gather his belongings.

  
  
“Whatever,” he grumbled, running his fingers through his hair, “I don’t want all this attention.”

  
  
Charlie turned to smack him on his good leg, scowling at his sour mood, “Dean Winchester, if you don’t cancel this pity party, I’m going to break your other leg.”

  
  
He sighed, gingerly changing his position, already restless. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I just hate this damn thing. I’ve only been in it for five minutes and my ass is already sore.”

  
  
Benny smirked, “Can’t have that, none of the girls will want you if your ass goes.”

  
  
“Bite me,” Dean huffed, taking his books from Charlie and placing them in his lap. As she took her place behind him once more, he glanced down at the items on top and groaned. “God, the last person I want to see today is Michael Novak.”

  
  
  
Charlie leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Maybe if you get lucky, you’ll see your favorite Novak along the way.”

  
  
Dean blushed, quickly glancing at Benny to see if he had heard. Satisfied that he was clueless, he looked up at his best friend, “You know, you can bite me, too.”

  
  
Charlie snorted, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead, “Sorry, handsome. Not my type.”

* * *

He made it through most of his classes with little-to-no issue, but at lunch he had to excuse himself to the office to take his next dose of painkillers. As he was being wheeled out by Charlie, she wheeled him directly over the foot of Castiel Novak.

  
  
Castiel smiled through the pain, though it didn’t reach his eyes, “Dean, it’s good to see you back. How are you feeling?”

  
  
Dean stared in shock, cheeks red with embarrassment, “Ca-Uh, Mr. Novak, sorry about that, I guess I need to fire my driver.” He glared up at Charlie, who shrugged at him with a sly smile before turning back to the man, “Are you okay?”

  
  
Castiel shook his head in disbelief with a small smile, “After everything, I can’t believe you would still worry about if _I_ was okay.” He glanced at Charlie before looking back down at Dean, “I’m glad to see that you’re mostly still in one piece. Take care, Dean.”

  
  
As Charlie wheeled him away, Dean was back in the hospital again, his lips just barely out of reach of the other man. With a deep sigh of frustration and a pit in his stomach, he let Charlie wheel him into his empty Economics class.  
  


  
“I will be right back,” she whispered, moving him to a table near the back. He exchanged a worried look with her and she cast him a sympathetic grimace in return. This was not going to be fun. She turned around, exiting the classroom in search of the closest bathroom.

  
  
Michael Novak glanced up from his newspaper, his expression instantly twisting with dislike. He zeroed in on Dean’s leg, then the wheelchair he was confined to and scoffed. “ _Winchester_ ,” he spat, standing up from his desk and stalking towards him. “You have some nerve showing back up here.”

  
  
Dean recoiled as if he’d been slapped, “You mean, returning to the school where I’m enrolled as a student? Yeah, some nerve.”

  
  
The older man slammed his fists down onto Dean’s desk, snarling inches from his face, “You arrogant little brat. You think you can just traipse around here like you’re a gift from God, expecting everyone to worship you?” He grabbed Dean by his jacket collar, yanking him closer, voice raising, “Why should you get to live while my brother rots in the ground?” He shook him roughly, causing Dean to cry out in pain from his injuries.

  
  
“MICHAEL,” he heard a shout, quickly being released as he watched the youngest Novak wrench his older brother off of Dean, jostling him more in the chair. Michael recovered quickly, delivering a wicked punch that caused Cas’s head to snap back sickeningly. Dean watched in a dazed stupor, the pain from his ribs radiating enough to make him see stars. Frozen, he helplessly watched the two men attack each other when Charlie’s scream pierced the room. Both men hesitated long enough at the commotion for Castiel to gain the advantage and drop him to the floor.

  
  
“Charlie,” he rasped, spitting some blood onto the floor, “Go get the principal, now!” Charlie nodded, sprinting out of the room. Castiel held Michael as he struggled, looking to the other student in the room, “Dean, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

  
  
Dean blinked rapidly, trying to find the words to say before giving up and nodding. He took a deep breath that caused instant regret as he winced from the pain once again. Castiel stared at him with great sadness in his eyes but said nothing more.

  
  
Rapid footsteps echoing through the hallway announced the return of Charlie with Coach Singer and the principal, Ellen Harvelle, on her heels.  
  
  
“What the _hell_ is going on here,” Mrs. Harvelle demanded, rushing into the room. “Bobby, make sure no other students come in here.”

  
  
“I’m on it,” Bobby growled, glaring at the two men on the floor.

  
  
Charlie immediately went to Dean, hugging him and checking him for any injuries, “Are you alright? Oh my god! What happened?”  
  


  
Dean nodded, “H-he didn’t hit me or anything. Just shook me.”

  
  
“ _Who_ shook you, Dean,” demanded Mrs. Harvelle, “I need you to tell me everything.”

  
  
“Mr. Novak, um, _Michael_ , started yelling at me. He grabbed me by the collar, shook me pretty hard. Then, Cas-uh… Castiel, came in and pulled him off me. He got him to let me go, and then Michael hit him,” Dean mumbled, just wanting to go home and out of this nightmare.

  
  
The principal turned on the younger of the two staff, “Castiel, is this true?”

  
  
Castiel released his brother and got to his feet, a horrific bruise already blooming across his left eye. He wiped more blood from his split lip and nodded. “Yes, Ellen,” he began, glancing between the others, “I was heading back from the office when I heard Michael’s raised voice. I rounded the corner and he had Dean by his coat, shaking him.  
  


  
Ellen stared at the other man incredulously, “Why would he be yelling at Dean?”

  
  
“Because,” Dean spoke from behind them, “He wanted to know why I deserved to live while his brother was rotting in the ground.”

  
  
Charlie and Ellen gasped in horror, everyone turning to stare at Michael Novak, who had yet to break his silence. Castiel had done far more damage to him, but he ignored the cuts across his cheeks and the broken nose that had already darkened both eyes. Michael shrugged, “My brother would be alive if it wasn’t for him.”

  
  
Castiel growled, “ _Our_ brother nearly killed Dean, or did you forget that detail?”

  
  
“Enough! Both of you,” Ellen snapped, fixing her gaze on Dean, “Dean, honey, I can’t imagine how you are feeling right now. This matter will be handled most severely. The police have been notified.”

  
  
Michael snorted, “I didn’t hit him, and he is not a minor. In my day, putting your hands on a student taught them respect, and this little punk could use some. Let the police come, they can’t hold me.”

  
  
“Minor or not, you assaulted a student the moment you put your hands on him! At the very least, I will make sure that you never work in another school again,” she snarled, turning back to Dean. “Maybe it’s best that Charlie here takes you home? I’m sure you’re both shaken up over this.”

  
  
“Poor Winchester,” Michael spit, glaring at the student in question with a wicked gleam in his eye, “More special treatment.”

  
  
“Mr. Novak,” Ellen warned, nostrils flaring in rage, “I said enough. Now, Miss Bradbury, take Mr. Winchester home so he can rest.”

  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” Charlie squeaked, quickly gathering their belongings and taking ahold of his chair.

  
  
Dean took one final glance at Castiel, noting the anger and pain written across his face, and he put his good foot on the floor to stop the chair from moving, “Wait! What about him, what happens to him?” He jerked his head toward the younger Novak, “He didn’t do anything wrong but protect me.”

  
  
Ellen hesitated, glancing between the Novak brothers, and then back at Dean, “I’m afraid that’s not up to me, Dean. Now, it’s time for you to go home. I mean it.”

  
  
He swallowed hard, catching Castiel’s eyes once more and appreciating his attempt at a reassuring smile. Begrudgingly, he lifted his foot and let himself be wheeled from the room.


End file.
